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V 


A Campaign Courtship 


By 

PAUL PENNIMAN. 

»» 



Westerville, Ohio 

The American Issue Publishing Company, 
Publishers 



Copyrighted 1914, 

By The American Issue Publishing Company, 
Westerville, Ohio 


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CONTENTS. 


Chapter Page 

I. Practical Politics 9 

II. Almost a Proposal 21 

III. Council of War 35 

IV. The Unexpected 50 

V. The Strong Hand 63 

VI. Mike’s Mistake 68 

VII. Playing It Safe 72 

VIII. The Trap Sprung 84 

IX. The Foundations Removed 92 

X. Clifford’s Finish 105 



A Campaign Courtship 


CHAPTER ONE 
Practical Politics. 

I T WAS a hot campaign. The 14th district 
had always been regarded as perfectly 
safe by the leaders of the dominant party, 
but this year there were storm signals flying. 
Local option was agitating the whole state, 
while the location of the proposed new million 
dollar hospital for the insane was a disturbing 
local issue. Prince county had offered to do- 
nate a site for the building, but the Committee 
on State Charities, of which Senator Grafton 
himself was chairman, was known to be enter- 
taining a proposal to buy a site on the other 
side of the state, paying one hundred thousand 
dollars for five hundred acres of land which 
any man could have bought in the open market 
the year before for fifty thousand. Senator 
Grafton’s willingness thus to defeat the inter- 
ests of his own constituents and to squander 
the state’s money by paying a preposterous 
price for land which was not needed gave rise 
to ugly and persistent rumors that he had “gol- 
den” reasons for his course. 

Those, however, who understood practical 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


politics and knew how the game was played 
put the blame higher up. For, in spite of Graf- 
ton’s pompous manner, and his favorite cam- 
paign phrase that he was “answerable only to 
his God and his constituents,” it was well 
known to the observing that he was always 
careful to have his views coincide with those 
of the local political leader, Mr. Clifford James, 
or “Boss Cliff,” as he was known to his lieu- 
tenants. 

The political “organization” in Prince 
county, to which Grafton owed allegiance, 
was the dominating factor in the 14th senator- 
ial district by reason of the strong hand, clear 
brain and administrative genius of its sole and 
undisputed leader. Clear cut as a cameo, cold 
and exact as the multiplication table, single- 
eyed and direct as a locomotive, Clifford James 
had built up an organization or “machine,” as 
his enemies called it, which had often been pro- 
nounced unbeatable. His never failing ability 
to “deliver” delegations and the sagacity of his 
advice in party councils had given him a wide 
influence in both state and national politics, 
and had secured an amount of “patronage” 
which had still further entrenched him as the 
local autocrat. 

It was not often that any member of the 
organization risked a “call down” from “Boss 
Cliff” by deviating in any respect from his or- 


10 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


ders. But Senator Grafton was verging on 
revolt as he strode into the luxurious offices 
of Clifford James, Attorney at Law. 

“Good morning, Cliff, ” said the portly sen- 
ator, helping himself to a chair and handling 
his gloves uneasily. 

“Well, what's the matter now?" The boss 
always went straight to the point. 

“Look a ’ here, Cliff," Grafton broke out 
impetuously, “I can’t stand for this asylum 
deal. It’s rotten and everybody knows it. I 
get a hat full of letters in every mail saying 
that Haskins will unseat me unless I give an 
absolute pledge to vote for the Prince county 
site. He roasted me to a finish last night in 
his speech in the armory and tipped off the 
broadest kind of a hint that I am to get a rake- 
off on the deal. It is against the interests of 
this district, and I owe something to my con- 
stituents," concluded the senator grandly. 

“That’ll do for the rough necks at a rally, 
but don’t hand any of it to me," said Clifford 
coolly. “Don’t forget for a minute that it was 
the organization that made you senator." 

“I know that you gave me the nomination," 
replied Grafton with just a shade of defiance 
in his voice, “but the people elected me and the 
public is aroused on this issue." 

“I say with your Uncle Van, The public be 
damned,’ " said Clifford contemptuously. 

1 1 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Yes, but Haskins is making a great run 
for my seat and I’m afraid he'll beat me to it." 

“The opposition in our own party is not 
organized and we are. A pound of steam in 
a machine will do more work than a hundred 
pounds blowing off in the air. We will return 
you with plenty to spare even if the majority 
is a little reduced." The boss spoke in the 
easy tone of one who is sure of himself and 
his position. 

“That’s just the point," said Grafton ang- 
rily. “If I do happen to win out it’ll be by a 
nose with my fine majority of the last election 
all shot to pieces. You want me to do the 
dirty work right in the lime light while you 
stand in the background and grab off the prof- 
its." 

“Don’t be a fool, Bill. The Liquor Dealers’ 
Association and the Land Company are going 
down to the capitol each bringing such a barrel 
of coin that they will have to pay excess bag- 
gage. You just be good, and vote right, and 
I will take care of you when we carve the 
melons." 

“But what am I to say," asked the Honor- 
able Bill, somewhat mollified, “when they in- 
terrupt my speeches, as they are doing lately, 
and ask what site I am going to vote for?" 

“Feed ’em a little guff," said the wily cam- 
paigner. “Tell them that the whole matter 


12 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

rests with the committee, and that you cannot 
forestall the action of the committee, but that 
so far as you personally are concerned, the in- 
terests of the state and of the good people of 
the 14th district will always be cherished by 
you as a sacred trust. Then branch off onto 
the Mexican war or the Boston tea party. 
Make the eagle scream, and you will have them 
throwing up their hats and forgetting all about 
the insane asylum. But let me give you a 
straight tip right here. Local option is the 
real issue in this campaign. When Jennings, 
the reverend meddler in politics, gets after you 
you won’t find it so easy to make him eat out 
of your left hand.” 

“Pouf! I’m too old a campaigner to worry 
over Sunday school politics.” 

“This is no Aunt Nancy movement.” James 
was in earnest. “As long as they confined them- 
selves to pulpiteering and petitions and cottage 
prayer meetings we classed them with mos- 
quitoes and bed bugs and other harmless 
pests. But this young cleric knows how to 
play the eame. He is getting votes.” 

“O, I’ll soon have him in cold storage,” 
said Grafton, cunning and confident. “I’ll tell 
him that he would be the most popular preach- 
er in town if he would confine himself to 
preaching the Gospel, and I’ll give him a check 
for fifty dollars for the heathen.” 

13 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Don’t try any childish tricks on Jennings. 
Be careful how you handle him for he is a 
live wire. Treat him with courtesy, put him 
off with glittering generalities if you can, 
promise anything verbally when there are no 
witnesses around, but don’t give out any sign- 
ed statements which will cause the Amberfoam 
Brewing Company to shut off supplies. Re- 
member that underneath his ecclesiastical coat 
there is a real man, and manhood, if it be the 
real thing, is always a force to be reckoned 
with. If the campaign should narrow down 
to a personal encounter between you and Jen- 
nings I am too good a gambler to bet against 
the minister.” 

“You’re not very complimentary this 
morning, Clifford. But I’ll show this pious 
churchman that running a political campaign 
is a very different proposition from managing 
a ladies’ aid society.” 

When Grafton’s office boy announced, 
“Rev. Jennings,” the next morning the old fox 
leaned back in his swivel chair and prepared 
to pull the wool over the eyes of the unworldly 
lamb. But somehow he lost his cocksureness 
the moment the virile young minister strode 
into the room. There was something about 
that direct, fearless glance that caused all 
thoughts of trickery and deceit to slink out 
of sight as coyotes and hyenas skulk away 


14 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


at the approach of the lion. 

“Good morning, Senator.” The minister’s 
tone indicated that he had come on business. 

“Good morning, my dear Doctor,” said 
Grafton profusely, rising and shaking hands 
vigorously, “I am delighted to see you. Have 
a chair. 

“Thank you. I come representing the 
Prince County Anti-Saloon League to ask if 
we may depend on you to support the proposed 
local option bill in the event of your election 
to the senate?” The minister’s tone was as 
direct as his glance. 

“Why, my dear Doctor, you may be sure 
that on this, as on all great moral issues, the 
good people of the 14th district may depend on 
me to do the right thing every time.” The 
senator was all sugar and oil. 

“I am very happy to hear you say so. Kind 
ly give me that statement in writing as we 
would like to use it in this evening’s 'Courier.’ ” 

The bland smile gave way to a look of 
crafty caution. 

“I never give out signed pledges before an 
election. If elected I will enter upon my duties 
unhampered by promises and free to follow 
my judgment and my conscience.” 

“On the contrary, Senator, when you state, 
as you did in your speech Tuesday night, that 
you stand squarely on the party platform you 

15 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


are giving a promise to support every article 
in it. Every candidate should conduct his 
campaign unhampered by promises to individ- 
uals or corporations, but with definite assur- 
ance to his constituents as to his position on 
every great public issue. That is what you are 
doing on other questions and we would like 
to have you define your position on the local 
option bill. ,, 

“Dr. Jennings, I am a great admirer of the 
late President McKinley. Mr. McKinley did 
not presume to lead public opinion ; he fol- 
lowed it. He kept his finger on the public 
pulse and when he found what the public want- 
ed he stood for that. If I am reelected to my 
seat in the senate I shall not go to the capitol 
to represent myself, but the people of the 14th 
district. And on this local option question, as 
upon every other, when it arises, I shall en- 
deavor to ascertain what the people of this dis- 
trict want and to represent their wishes.” 

“It is very true that Major McKinley fol • 
lowed, rather than led, public opinion. But he 
always ascertained, to the best of his ability, 
what that opinion was, and announced himself 
accordingly, before he asked any man to vote 
for him. If you wish the votes of this district 
on the ground that you represent its consensus 
of opinion you should announce in advance 
what you believe that opinion to be.” 

16 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“I stand on my record,” said the senator, a 
bit stiffly. “I have always stood for decency 
and good order and am not a drinking man 
myself. The people of this district can trust 
me to do the right thing in this matter without 
any needless pledges.” 

“It is your record which is not satisfactory 
to the temperance forces, Senator Grafton.” 
The minister was not mincing his words. “At 
the last session you voted to take the local 
option bill out of the hands of the license com- 
mittee, where it properly belonged, apparently 
because the license committee was known to 
be friendly to the bill, and you helped to have it 
referred to the finance committee which was 
known to be unfriendly to the bill. For this 
reason we do not feel that we ought to take too 
much for granted as to your favorable attitude 
toward the bill.” 

“O, well, if you’re going to be so blamed 
suspicious of your best friends I suppose I’ll 
have to give you a statement,” said Grafton, 
with evident impatience, as he swung around 
to his desk and dashed off a few lines. “There,” 
handing Dr. Jennings a paper, “that’s doing 
more for you than I ever did for anyone be- 
fore.” 

Jennings reading: “I am always in favor 
of reducing to a minimum the evils of strong 
drink. I am in favor of all wise and just legis- 


1 7 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


lation which is framed in the interest of true 
temperance/’ 

“Senator, this is not at all satisfactory.” 
The minister laid the paper on the long table 
which occupied the center of the room. “What 
we want to know is whether you believe that 
the proposed local option bill is 'framed in the 
interest of true temperance’ and will therefore 
support it.” 

“Young man, you’re too infernally particu- 
lar,” said Grafton losing his temper and jump- 
ing to his feet. The minister rose also and 
the men stood facing each other with the table 
between them. “Take my advice and stick 
to preaching the Gospel. Politics and religion 
don’t mix.” 

“Evidently they are not very much mixed 
in your case, Senator.” The words were as 
direct as a lance thrust. 

“Now don’t get gay with me,” said Grafton 
in a rage, shaking his finger menacingly. “I’m 
no saint, but I’ll take my chances with a lot of 
the sniveling, Psalm singing, hypocrites in 
your church. What license have you to come 
around here telling me how to run my cam- 
paign?” 

“I’m not telling you how to run your cam- 
paign, but simply asking you on what princi- 
ples you propose to run it,” said the minister 
with unswerving directness. “Am I to under- 
18 



THE MINISTER LAID THE PAPER ON THE LONG TABLE WHICH 
OCCUPIED THE CENTER OF THE ROOM. — See page l8. 





#' 




A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


stand that you decline to pledge yourself to 
support the local option bill 

“Understand anything you please,” said 
Grafton fuming. ‘Til have nothing to do with 
the bunch of pious frauds that make up your 
Anti-Saloon League. You can’t control five 
hundred votes anyway.” He had quite for- 
gotten the boss’ instructions. 

“That remains to be seen.” The minister 
was cool if the politician wasn’t. “Haskins has 
declared himself in favor of the bill. If you per- 
sist in your unfriendly attitude we will issue 
a circular endorsing Haskins and stating that 
your position is not satisfactory. Your ma- 
jority at the last election was a trifle over six 
thousand. There are ten thousand voters who 
are members of the various churches in this 
district. We do not pretend to control them 
all, but we will mail our circulars to every one 
personally, we will publish it in every news- 
paper in the district, we will hold union ser- 
vices in the churches of every town and village 
in the district, and we will instruct our precinct 
committees to present the matter to every 
voter personally. There is a large temperance 
element which lies entirely outside of church 
membership, and this element, together with 
the proportion of church members, whom we 
believe we can influence, will more than offset 
your majority of six thousand. We shall re- 

J9 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


gret very much to be obliged to resort to such 
measures. We would far rather have the pleas- 
ure of endorsing you.” 

“You’ve already endorsed Haskins and that 
ought to be ‘pleasure’ enough for one cam- 
paign. You can’t spring no double game on 
me, playing both ends against the middle.” 

“We are getting tired of the double game 
by which you give us smooth words and empty 
promises while you give your vote to our 
enemies. Evidently we understand each other, 
Senator Grafton. Good day, sir.” 

Grafton gazed blankly at the door which 
closed behind the minister and then muttered 
to himself: “Damned if I don’t think Clifford 
was right.” 


20 


CHAPTER TWO. 

Almost a Proposal. 

T HE annual Sunday school picnic of the 
Princeville Congregational Church 
had been postponed a month to 
await the pastor’s return from Europe where 
he had spent his vacation. But at last the long 
looked for day had arrived. Partly owing to 
the ideal picnic grounds on the banks of Swan 
Lake, six miles away, and partly owing to the 
example of a few of the leading families, the so- 
called Sunday school picnic was made the occa- 
sion for a day’s outing by the entire church. So 
popular had this annual event become that it 
was now accepted as a matter of course that 
“everybody” would go. Even “Boss Cliff” 
went. Mike Bullen could never understand 
why “Boss Cliff” should want to “break into 
the pious game” by attending these picnics. 
Indeed it was perfectly safe to assume that 
he did not go because of any predilection for 
the society of Deacon Crackington or because 
of any hungering for the sweet consolations 
of religion. Why, then, did he go? For one 
thing, these occasions were very popular, and 
James was a politician. And then, Marjorie 
would be there. 


21 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Marjorie Major did not need to depend for 
her popularity on the fact that she was the 
only heir to Franklin Major’s million or more. 
Handsome as a madonna, gracious as a queen, 
quick of wit, radiant in disposition, unspoiled 
by flattery, and so tender in heart that no ap- 
peal for charity was ever made to her in vain, 
she was loved by the well-to-do as the flower 
of their set, and idolized by the outcasts of 
fortune as a patron saint. Dame Rumor had 
tried to connect Marjorie’s name with that of 
her handsome, young pastor. But, as for that 
matter, that meddlesome party had tried from 
time to time to arrange a match between him 
and every eligible maiden in the church. But 
the minister had thus far maintained a diplo- 
matic impartiality toward all the maidens of 
his flock, and if he had any preference it was 
concealed behind a well-disciplined counte- 
nance which was both polite and inscrutable. 
As some of the slangy ones put it: “He loves 
his flock but plays no favorites.” 

Clifford’s fondness for Marjorie’s society 
was not unnoticed by the eager eyed gossips 
who watched every word and glance of the 
much sought heiress, although in love as in 
politics he concealed his hand. Accustomed 
to command rather than to sue he found in this 
light-hearted, frolicsome Miss the only per- 
son in the county who seemed unaware of his 


22 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


political power and who entirely ignored his 
“pull” The prestige of success had made him 
too proud to risk a “throw down” in the pres- 
ence of others by doing his courting in the 
open. In the opinion of the worldly wise, how- 
ever, he had nothing to fear. He was incom- 
parably the most brilliant and successful of 
those who might be classed as eligible, saving 
only Dr. Jennings. But was not the independ- 
ent home of the wealthy and rising young law- 
yer and politician infinitely to be preferred to 
the uncertain tenure of the manse, with a whole 
congregation to please and the criticisms of the 
ever present fault finders to endure? 

The points of likeness between the rivals 
were so numerous as to be striking. The points 
of difiference were not so noticeable at first. 
Of nearly the same age, both having just turn- 
ed thirty, they were tall, well built and ath- 
letic. James was distinctly dark, having black 
hair, black eyes and dark skin. Jennings was 
crowned by a mass of wavy dark brown hair, 
but his complexion was clear and his eyes 
gray. Both were clean shaven and clean fea- 
tured. A rather large straight nose and wide 
set, aggressive jaw characterized James. Del- 
icately chiseled nostrils and mouth marked 
Jennings as a man of native refinement. The 
politician’s face indicated strength, shrewd- 
ness and secrecy. The minister’s frank, open 


23 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


countenance revealed a soul that had nothing 
to hide and nothing to fear. They had been 
college classmates in one of the small, “fresh 
water” colleges of the middle west. There the 
similarity of their tastes and their natural gifts 
in athletics, in scholarship, in oratory, and in 
society would seem to qualify them for con- 
genial friendship and honorable rivalry. But 
for some subtle reason, which neither perhaps 
could fully analyze, the two never harmonized. 
Perhaps one reason was that whether in base 
ball or public debate James always went in to 
win at any cost, even to buying an umpire or 
stealing his opponent’s manuscript, while Jen- 
nings would rather lose a straight game than 
win a crooked one. Jennings became pres- 
ident of the college Y. M. C. A. James was 
high in the councils of a certain Greek letter 
fraternity, the most characteristic features of 
whose chapter house were pet bull dogs, meer- 
schaum pipes, Sunday card games, and smug- 
gled-in cases of wine. During their senior 
year a bunch of students were discussing these 
two strong, clean cut, intellectual young fel- 
lows who had so much in common and yet 
could not seem to become real friends, when 
Dick Clingman said that the chief difference 
between them was that one acted with con- 
science and the other without. Clifford’s 
friends resented this characterization as unfair. 


24 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


but the popular verdict was that Dick had hit 
off the essential difference between them as 
with a stroke of a cartoonist's pencil. And 
now, years after the youthful rivalries of col- 
lege had all been passed, by a curious freak oi 
fortune they had been thrown together within 
the narrow limits of a small inland city, there 
to fight out the far more serious issues of life 
in love and politics. 

The drive from Princeville to Swan Lake 
was not the least delightful part of the day's 
outing. The road lay over fertile, rolling 
country. Corn fields and groves of oak and 
maple gave variety to the landscape, while the 
winding course of Rainbow Creek, so called 
because of the rainbow trout which were 
caught there in season, looked like a silver rib 
bon between its emerald banks. Anticipation 
was at its highest, however, when they reached 
the crest of “Bareback," as the treeless ridge 
was called, from which they caught the first 
glimpse of the shimmering surface of Swan 
Lake. For nine miles the green waters of the 
lake, with the sunlight sparkling on its ripples, 
stretched away from the foot of the hill. The 
approach to the lake was gradual, the banks 
grassy, and the beach white with sand. But 
on the opposite side white lime-stone cliffs rose 
sheer out of the water and were covered with 
forest trees. 


25 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Ohs! and Ahs! and shouts of delight broke 
from the loads of happy picnickers as one by 
one the crowded vehicles surmounted the crest 
of Bareback and the matchless view burst upon 
the eager gaze. About half way down the slope 
was the big pavilion where the luncheons were 
eaten and whither the crowds fled for refuge 
when caught by an untimely summer shower. 
There was an animated scene by the pavilion 
when the big busses rolled up. Wriggling, 
squealing, shouting, laughing loads of boys 
and girls fairly spilled themselves out in their 
eagerness for the day’s frolic. Surries, single 
buggies, and automobiles of every description 
discharged their cargoes of happy humanity 
and lunch baskets. Noiselessly, except for its 
chime whistle, like a rich chord from a pipe 
organ, Franklin Major’s big touring car rolled 
up. Mr. and Mrs. Major, Marjorie, and her 
friend, Kate Haynes, alighted. Both the young 
ladies were dressed in white. The pale blue 
trimmings which peeped through the open 
work in the waist worn by Marjorie set off 
her fair complexion to advantage. Pink was 
Kate’s color. Her dark hair, olive skin, and 
blue eyes made of her what she called (not 
without a touch of bitterness) “a disappointed 
brunette.” 

Close behind came Clifford Tames in his 
trim and dashing little runabout. Seated at 
26 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


his side was his political henchman, Carter 
Haynes, to whom belonged the triple honor 
of being postmaster, church treasurer, and 
Kate’s father. When Janie's drew off his gaunt- 
lets, goggles and cap, and threw aside his 
“auto-coat,” he stood forth resplendent in an 
immaculate white flannel outing suit, white 
silk shirt, white leather belt, and white canvas 
shoes. A white yachting cap replaced the 
black leather head piece which he wore when 
acting as his own chauffeur. The only color vis- 
ible in his make-up was a pink silk tie and pink 
silk socks. The young ladies said he was a 
dream, the old ladies said he was a dude. 

With shouts of joy at their release from the 
confinement of the busses the children and the 
young people started down the hill on the run 
for the playgrounds by the lake. With less of 
capering but with equal pleasure the older per- 
sons also started for the ball field, the tennis 
courts, the swings, the boats, the hammocks, 
and the benches in the shade. Dr. Jennings 
had ridden in a ’bus with his Sunday school 
class of sixteen lively boys “to keep the colts 
from kicking over the traces.” There was noth- 
ing in his dress to indicate his calling. Sac- 
erdotal black, priestly collars and all evidences 
of “the cloth” were laid aside. He wore a 
dark blue serge outing suit, white silk shirt, 
with low collar, tan belt, tan oxfords, tan socks, 


27 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


sailor hat with blue ribbon and blue tie. With 
his radiant smile he told Deacon Crackington 
that he felt like a boy again. That worthy 
wrinkled up his face into what was meant for 
a smile of indulgence. He would have it under- 
stood that so liberal a man as he could pardon 
such a departure from ministerial proprieties 
in one whose life was otherwise blameless. 

It was perhaps mere coincidence that Miss 
Haynes, when she saw the minister lingering 
a little to see that nobody was neglected or for- 
gotten, should wait a little also and suddenly 
have difficulty in handling her lunch basket. 

“Let me help you, Miss Haynes,” said the 
always courteous pastor. 

“Thank you, Doctor. How easily you lift 
it ! You must be very strong.” 

“O, not at all. Not nearly as strong as one 
of my inches and avoirdupois ought to be.” 

“You never let any one compliment you. 
But if 'imitation is the sincerest flattery’ you 
are the most flattered man in Princeville. There 
is not a boy in town that does not copy 
your stride and tone and gesture.” 

“Now you are trying to flatter me with less 
sincerity, I fear. Are we to stir this can of 
pineapple into the lemonade?” 

They had begun to unpack the baskets. 

“All but the can. Doctor.” 

“Quite right, to be sure. But I believe that 
28 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


the little savages are ravenous enough to eat 
can and all. They are in the happiest period 
of life right now but they don’t realize it.” 

“You talk with the wisdom of a gray-beard, 
but you’re wrong just the same.” 

“Indeed! Then perhaps you can tell me, 
with wisdom superior to a gray-beard’s, a hap- 
pier period than that of childhood.” 

“How about the honeymoon?” 

“What do you know about that?” 

“Only what my heart tells me.” (a sigh) 

“Sometimes the honeymoon doesn’t last 
much longer than the new moon, and then the 
last state is worse than the first. Kindly hand 
me that box of sandwiches.” 

“Of course a misfit marriage is a calamity 
for which there is no cure but divorce.” 

“ ‘Till death us do part,’ ” quoting with up- 
raised hand. 

“O, Doctor, this is so sudden!” (archly) 

“Not at all. The phrase has been in the 
ritual since 1087.” 

“O, how stupid you are today!” 

“My normal condition. I don’t believe 
there is cofifee enough here for this crowd.” 

“There is another bag in Marjorie’s basket. 
Don’t you ever feel lonely? Don’t you some- 
times wish you were happily married?” 

“I am. I am wedded to my profession.” 

“O, nonsense ! I’m not talking about a busi- 


29 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


ness but a woman. Wouldn’t you be happier 
if, in addition to your profession, on which you 
seem to dote, you had a happy home of your 
own, with a wife who adored you, to welcome 
you home at night, to cheer you when discour- 
aged, to share your joys and triumphs, and, 
above all, one who always understood you and 
believed in you?” 

“Such a condition would doubtless be high- 
ly agreeable but just now I am more concerned 
about how to get the cork out of this bottle 
of pickles.” 

“Here’s a corkscrew — in my basket.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Men always need some one to look after 
them.” 

“Every bachelor will agree with you there.” 

“Would you think less of a young lady who 
should avail herself of her leap-year privilege 
and propose?” 

“My dear Miss Haynes, it is a woman’s pre- 
rogative to bring the lover to his knees at her 
feet and no lady ever waives this right.” Ris- 
ing. “Here come the others with the water 
and ice for lemonade.” 

A pair of vindictive eyes flashed all the hate, 
if not of a woman scorned, at least of a woman 
politely declined, as Dr. Jennings turned to 
greet Marjorie who was accompanied by Clif- 
ford James, carrying a chunk of ice held daint- 


30 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

ily in a small pair of ice tongs, followed by 
Sam Blizzard carrying two pails of water. 

“Ice as cold as charity and water as thin 
as a theological argument," said Clifford. 

“And here we have a can of a lawyer's most 
valuable asset," said Dr. Jennings holding up 
a can which he took from a lunch basket. 

“What is it?" asked two or three in unison. 

“Deviled tongue." 

Sam guffawed immoderately at the rather 
unclerical retort, but Marjorie said: 

“Come, gentlemen, quit this raillery and be 
friends." 

“We ought to be the best of friends," said 
the minister lightly, “for in a certain sense a 
minister and a successful criminal lawyer are 
engaged in the same work." 

“In what way?” asked Marjorie in surprise. 

“Saving sinners," said Jennings with mock 
gravity, while all laughed but Clifford. 

“Don't you regard it as an honor, Mr. 
James, to have your profession put in the same 
class with the ministry?" asked Marjorie as 
she stirred and sipped the lemonade. 

“Almost as much of an honor as to be classed 
with ‘con men' and easy-money grafters." 
Clifford was about as amiable as a jeweled 
wine glass filled with vitriol. 

“O, come now, cheer up," said Marjorie 
lightly. “You don't mean that. Try some of 
3i 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


this lemonade and give us a toast to the min- 
istry/’ 

All filled glasses while Clifford said: 

“The ministry: the profession which is 
painfully pious, stupidly sanctimonius, and 
morbidly moral — when watched — and which 
takes hard earned money from credulous dupes 
by retailing platitudes and truisms and bogus 
passports to a mythical heaven.” 

All were horrified at this bold and slashing 
sarcasm. Before even Marjorie could find 
voice Sam’s characteristic drawl was heard: 

“Here’s to the lawyer, who shields the law- 
breaker and makes crime safe, who defeats jus- 
tice with the handy technicality, who grows 
fat on other people’s troubles, who accepts 
bribes with impunity by calling them retainers, 
and who sells both brains and conscience to the 
highest bidder.” 

Clifford scowled savagely at Sam. The 
minister’s glance showed that he was greatly 
amused by the hot volley from his rough and 
ready defender. But Marjorie stamped her foot 
and said: 

“Gentlemen, you must stop this banter 
which is too biting to be amusing. I will give 
you a toast, and let no one fail to drink on 
pain of being outlawed and excommunicated,” 
with a little gesture first toward the lawyer and 
32 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“The Law and the Gospel: we need them 
both : the Law to keep us straight, and the Gos- 
pel to keep us sweet.” 

Amid exclamations of “Good” and “Well 
said” all raised their glasses and drank. 

“Tommy Dickens gave the festivities a fly- 
ing start by tumbling into the lake,” said Sam, 
putting down his tumbler. 

“Is he being cared for?” asked the pastor 
quickly. 

“O, yes,” replied Sam, “his mother put him 
right to bed in the ground-keeper’s house and 
his clothes are now flapping on a line.” 

“And Susie Tennant fell out of a swing and 
raised a bump on her forehead like a robin’s 
egg,” said Marjorie. 

“And Willie Wimbleton, in his fresh white 
duck suit, sat down in an open faced raspberry 
pie,” added Clifford. 

“Rather a bad beginning,” commented the 
Doctor. 

“Such things must be expected,” said Sam 
oracularly. 

“I have promised to umpire a game of ball 
for the boys,” said Dr. Jennings addressing 
Marjorie, “Wouldn’t you like to come over and 
watch the sport?” 

“Beg pardon, Miss Major,” broke in Clif- 
ford ,“but we were speaking of boating a few 

33 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

moments ago. Did I understand that you would 
like to go sailing?” 

“No, Mr. James,” replied the fair maiden, 
“you mentioned the boats, I believe, but you 
did not ask me to go. But if I am to under- 
stand that I am honored by two invitations 
at once I shall have to be strictly impartial as 
between you gentlemen and let it be decided 
by my favorite sport.” 

“Which is?” asked the minister. 

“Boating?” asked the lawyer. 

“Base ball,” answered the maid. 

Two pairs of eyes blazed vindictively as the 
young divine started for the ball grounds ac- 
companied by the fairest flower of his parish. 


34 


CHAPTER THREE. 

Council of War. 

P OLITICALLY the situation was get- 
ting desperate for the “organization.” 
Reports from every precinct told of 
revolt. The spirit of independence was in the 
air. And now that the issue was clearly drawn 
between Grafton, the ally of the liquor inter- 
ests and the promoter of what was believed to 
be a corrupt land deal, as against Haskins, who 
was known to be clean and incorruptible and an 
advocate of the principle of local option, voters 
everywhere, who had always voted the party 
ticket straight, were declaring that they would 
“scratch” Grafton. 

Grafton was in a fright and a fury. Haynes, 
secure in his federal office, was still solicitous 
for the safety of the “organization” which 
secured his appointment. Clifford, cool and 
self-mastered as ever, saw clearly the danger of 
defeat with its consequent loss of prestige if 
not of leadership. And now he had his own 
personal reasons for the malignant hatred 
which he nursed toward the brilliant young 
minister who was the leader and the moving 
spirit of the opposition. To oppose the boss 
at any point was dangerous. To cross him 
35 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


both in politics and love was more perilous 
than robbing a bear of her whelps. 

They were having a council of war, these 
three. Seated about a table in Clifford’s pri- 
vate office they were proposing plans to re- 
trieve a desperate situation. As usual James 
let his aides speak first, reserving his opinion. 

“They’ve got us on the run,” said Grafton. 
“The blankety blank reformers have an organ- 
ization nearly as good as ours. They have 
committees at every precinct and are making 
a personal canvass that reaches every voter. 
Instead of depending on hot air as in the past 
this political preacher is showing them how 
to get the votes. If we don’t stand from under 
we’re going to get caught in a ‘land slide.’ ” 
The Honorable Bill was unmistakably vexed. 

“What do you propose that we do?” asked 
Clifford. 

“There is only one thing to do, and that is 
to notify the Liquor Dealers’ Association to 
send us enough money to buy our way in.” 
Grafton’s confidence in the corrupting power 
of money was that of a man who was not un- 
conscious in his own heart of its power to 
such ends. 

“You’ll have to guess again,” said Clifford. 
“We have money enough now to take care of 
the floaters, and there is no danger of any of 
them voting the temperance ticket anyway. We 
36 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


are losing a class of voters who cannot be in- 
fluenced directly by money.” 

“Why not have Bill announce himself in 
favor of the local option bill and tip off to the 
liquor people that he will be with them all right 
when it comes to a show down?” This ingen- 
uous suggestion was offered by the eminently 
respectable Haynes. 

“The brewers won’t stand for any such 
game,” said Clifford. “They are fighting for 
their lives and they won’t let us use their 
money to fan the temperance flame which is 
sweeping the country.” 

There was a moment’s silence. The two 
subordinates had played their last cards. Then 
the boss spoke. 

“There is only one thing to do and that is 
to get rid of Jennings.” 

“Get rid of Jennings!” exclaimed both in 
a breath. 

“How are you going to persuade him to 
change his base?” asked Grafton. He evident- 
ly thought that the chief had lost his cunning. 

“HI not try to persuade him, I’ll persuade 
his church.” 

“His church!” said Grafton, still more 
doubting Clifford’s sagacity. “You might as 
well try to get them to set fire to the steeple. 
Why, man, that congregation worships the 
minister more than it worships Almighty God.” 

37 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“I know that he is popular, but while the 
people think much of him they think much 
more of their own pocket books. We will make 
him too expensive a luxury.” 

“Well, if you know how to do that you 
may do the steering.” Grafton lit a cigar and 
leaned back in his chair with the air of a man 
who washes his hands of an impossible task. 

“It is not so difficult. We will ask all of 
our friends to cut off their subscriptions toward 
the minister’s salary. This will create a big 
deficit. It will then be up to the rest of the 
church either to make good the shortage or 
dismiss the minister. It’s an easy guess to 
tell what that bunch of tightwads will do 
when up against that proposition. Carter, have 
you the subscription list with you?” 

Haynes pulled out a paper from his pocket 
while Clifford took up a pencil and pad of paper 
from the table. 

“How much do you give, Carter?” 

“Fifty dollars a year.” 

Clifford wrote down the figures. 

“How much do you give, Bill?” 

“Not a damn cent,” said that eminent 
statesman. 

“But Mrs. Grafton pays ten dollars a quart- 
er or forty dollars a year,” said Haynes, look- 
ing at his list. 

“Forty dollars,” said Clifford, writing it 
down. 38 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Not being quite so religious as ‘Deacon’ 
Haynes I am giving only twenty-five,” con- 
tinued Clifford, writing it down. At this evi- 
dence of the superior piety of “Deacon” 
Haynes Grafton broke into a guffaw. 

“How much does Dr. Lansing give?” 

“One hundred dollars.” 

“One hundred dollars,” said Clifford, as the 
pencil made the figures. 

“How are you going to get him to quit?” 
said Grafton. “He’s one of the prayer meet- 
ing bunch, one of the ‘pillars’ they call him.” 

“He’ll have to do it or we’ll make Dr. Dex- 
ter county physician. How much does Dr. 
Dexter give?” 

“Fifty dollars.” 

“Fifty dollars,” noted the boss. “He’ll 
have to cut that off or give up hope of being 
county physician next year. How about Jen- 
kins, the gas man?” 

“Seventy-five dollars.” 

“Seventy-five off. He’ll not hesitate as 
long as he is asking for a new franchise. What 
is Josh. Scribner doing?” 

“He’s in the forty dollar class.” 

“Forty off. As long as his office does the 
county printing he is wise enough to take or- 
ders. Is Pennington, the county clerk on the 
list?” 

“Yes,” said Haynes. “He’s just about as 
39 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

pious as you are, Cliff. He gives twenty-five, 
too.” 

“Twenty-five,” said Clifford. “Haw, haw,” 
said Grafton. 

“I got old man Richard’s boy a clerkship 
in Washington. I believe that he will oblige 
me in this matter. How much is he down for?” 

“Forty.” 

“Forty it is. Now, let’s see how much we 
have,” said Clifford, adding up the figures. 
“Four hundred and forty-five.” 

“Four-forty-five wouldn’t phase that church 
for a minute,” broke in Grafton. “They would 
make it right up and then vote an increase in 
salary.” 

“Don’t go off at half cock, Bill. How much 
does Major give?” 

“Major!” both exclaimed. 

“He gives two hundred and fifty regularly, 
and usually gives that much more in special 
gifts toward repairs and to make up deficits. 
But you can’t do a thing with him.” 

“Every man has his price,” said the boss 
cynically. 

“Yes,” said Haynes, “but how are you go- 
ing to buy a millionaire?” 

“With a seat in congress.” 

Grafton whistled. A great light began to 
dawn on the two subordinates. Clifford con- 
tinued: 


40 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Representative Malone is to retire at the 
close of his present term. It is agreed that 
his successor is to come from this end of the 
district. That leaves the nomination to us. 
Major has political aspirations. He will join 
us in order to get the nomination. With his 
help and with those we can influence we can 
cause an immediate shortage of a thousand or 
more in the church finances. We will point out 
that this means not the loss of a single thou- 
sand but a permanent loss to the church of a 
thousand a year as long as the present pastor 
is retained.” 

“I believe you can turn the trick,” said 
Grafton in undisguised admiration. 

“If Major is in his office in the bank down 
stairs now I will ask him to come up.” Clifford 
picked up his phone and the following one- 
sided conversation was heard: 

“Main 3022. This is Mr. James. Is Mr. 
Major in? * * * Hello, Mr. Major, would it be 
convenient for you to step up to my office for 
a moment? * * * Thank you. Good bye.” 

“Now, if you fellows will just step into the 
next room F 11 see if we can't swing this emi- 
nent heavy weight into line.” 

The door had hardly closed behind the two 
henchmen when a heavy, dignified step was 
heard coming up the stairs. The door opened 
and Franklin Major walked into the office. 

41 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


With the usual word of greeting Major took 
the polished oak armchair indicated by James 
and drew it to the shining table. With char- 
acteristic directness James went to the heart 
of the matter. 

“As you know, Mr. Major, it is our turn to 
name the representative from this district to 
succeed Malone who retires. How would you 
like to take the seat?” 

“I would be delighted, Mr. James. My 
business is in such shape now that I can get 
away and I would enjoy nothing more than a 
congressional career.” 

“Well, we have considered the matter and 
have decided to tender you the nomination if 
you desire it.” 

There was no doubt about the pleasure 
which this announcement gave the wealthy 
banker. 

“You use the word 'we/ of course, in the 
editorial sense. I understand perfectly well 
and shall thank you for the nomination.” 

Dismissing this recognition of his leader- 
ship and the thanks with a wave of the hand 
Clifford continued: 

“Of course you understand, Mr. Major, 
that it has been customary for the congres- 
sional candidate to bear the bulk of the cam- 
paign expenses.” 

“Certainly, certainly. It will give me 


42 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


pleasure to hand you a check for five thousand 
dollars at once, if that will be satisfactory ?” 

“No checks, Mr. Major. You name a 
reasonable figure, but it must be in currency.” 

The wary politician had played the game 
long enough to know that signatures and en- 
dorsements sometimes reappear at most em- 
barrassing moments. 

“To be sure. I’ll send it up in a satchel.” 
The banker also was “wise.” 

Then Clifford shifted his position and came 
to the ticklish point. 

“One other matter, Mr. Major. We must 
secure the resignation of Dr. Jennings.” 

Major dropped his glasses and fell back in 
his chair. 

“The resignation of Dr. Jennings ! You as- 
tonish me. What has he to do with it?” 

“He should have nothing to do with it. But 
instead of sticking to the pulpit where he be- 
longs he has taken to the stump. Instead of 
preaching the Gospel he is meddling in politics. 
He is making war on the organization. He 
has started a boycott on Grafton. Our nom- 
ination in this district has always been equiv- 
alent to an election, but unless we can get rid 
of this disturber of the peace he will smash the 
machine and fill every office with opposition 
candidates.” Clifford’s eyes blazed with anger. 

“Well, you surely don’t expect me to make 
43 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


war on my pastor because he is doing what 
he believes to be his duty as a citizen ?” said 
Major after a blank pause. 

“I expect every friend of the organization 
to do whatever is necessary for success,” said 
Clifford sharply. “He is fighting us, and in this 
war there can be no neutrals.” 

Major was not used to 'being talked to like 
this, but the masterful young man looked him 
straight in the eye. 

“Why, man, it is impossible to unseat him. 
the congregation idolizes him.” 

“Whatever ought to be done can be done. 
Here, look at this list. By the withdrawal of 
these subscriptions, and a few others which we 
can control, we can cause an immediate deficit 
of twelve hundred or more in the church finan- 
ces. This will make his position untenable and 
he will have to resign.” 

“But they would call it a political conspir- 
acy,” protested the fast weakening Major, “and 
it would only make him the more popular. 
Deacon Crackington would lead the opposition 
and we would be beaten three to one.” 

“Deacon Crackington is one of those color- 
less individuals whose rule of life is to follow 
the line of least resistance. His reputation for 
piety is due chiefly to a lack of red blood. He 
loves his enemies because nature forgot to 
put any fight into his make-up. Like all timid 
44 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


people, he is stingy. Make it clear to him that 
if the minister is retained he will have to double 
his subscription. That will give him a cramp 
in the pocket nerve. Show him that the church 
will be ripped in two by a feud. Then point 
out to him that it is to the pastor’s best in- 
terests to go where he will not have a minor- 
ity opposed to him, and that his best friends 
ought to advise him to seek another field. And 
lastly tell him that it is for the interest of 
the church to have a pastor on whom all can 
agree rather than to have the church perma- 
nently split. Crackington is the leader of the 
prayer-meeting crowd. You are the leader of 
the business men. Whatever you two advocate 
will go through. For even if there was oppo- 
sition it would fail for lack of leadership.” 

Major remained silent with bowed head for 
several minutes. He realized keenly how con- 
temptible a trick it was to drive out a high- 
minded and fearless minister for doing what 
every decent citizen ought to endorse and ap- 
plaud. But on the other hand he reasoned that 
so talented a man as Dr. Jennings would easily 
find another and perhaps a better pulpit. If 
James was bringing his powerful political 
forces to bear on the minister he would sooner 
or later have to go anyway; and then there 
was the glittering prize of the representative’s 

45 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


seat with a social career in Washington for his 
wife and daughter. 

“Very well/’ he said at length, ‘Til see what 
I can do with Deacon Crackington.” 

“You can land him,” said James rising and 
shaking hands with Major with unwonted cor- 
diality, “and remember that the minister’s res- 
ignation means your election.” 

Nothing could better illustrate the discipline 
maintained by James than the ease with which 
Haynes induced the men on the list to with- 
draw their subscriptions. A whispered expla- 
nation was in many cases all that was neces- 
sary. Dr. Lansing protested and declared that 
he wouldn’t “knife the minister for fighting 
the devil.” But a little later a telephone mes- 
sage summoned him to the boss’ office, and 
when he returned he had drawn in his horns. 
Greenwood, the grocer, demurred at first, but 
when told plainly to get in line or the whole 
“gang” would transfer their trade to Staple- 
ton he made haste to comply. Others there 
were who could not be handled in quite so sum- 
mary a manner. Thus, there was Silas Hen- 
straw, a rich, retired farmer, and as independ- 
ent as the great pyramid. But his son, Silas, 
was teller in the First National Bank. Major 
called young Silas into his private office and 
explained that if the bank president went to 
Congress the teller would be made cashier. 

46 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


While the flush of pleasure was still on the 
young man’s face it was explained that the 
minister’s resignation was necessary to bring 
about this desirable result. Could he secure 
his father’s co-operation to this end? Certain- 
ly he could. 

Thus the method was adapted to the man. 
Orders were issued to those who were under 
control. Diplomacy and persuasion were used 
on those who were in any way open to influ- 
ence. 

Without great difficulty a shrinkage of a 
little over twelve hundred dollars in the church 
subscription list was caused. Then Major took 
Deacon Crackington in hand. At the first sug- 
gestion of asking for the minister’s resignation 
the deacon flamed up in righteous indignation. 
Was not Dr. Jennings the most brilliant 
preacher, the most faithful pastor, and the best 
all-around man, any way you take him, that the 
church had ever had? And was not the church 
prospering under his administration as never 
before? And was not the fight he was now 
waging for local option the most gallant as 
well as the most practical and effective ever 
carried on by the reform forces? 

But Clifford’s marvelous judgment of men 
was seen in the accuracy with which he had 
taken the deacon’s measure. Calming him 
with the assurance that he was proposing only 
47 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


what would be, under the circumstances, for 
the minister's highest interest, Major played 
skillfully first upon his avarice, then upon his 
timidity, and lastly upon his religiousness, 
pointing out how much more good the First 
Congregational Church of Princeville could do 
“in the Master’s kingdom” when united and 
harmonious than when hopelessly split. Crack- 
ington, awed by the size of the defection and 
impressed by Major’s plausible reasoning, hem- 
med and hawed a little, asked a few irrelevant 
questions, and finally said that, while the min- 
ister didn’t have any better friend in the church 
than he, he reckoned that under the circum- 
stances a change would be best for both pastor 
and people. Before the interview closed it 
was agreed that when the question came to 
vote Deacon Crackington should be the one 
to make a speech, giving the pastor full credit 
for his sterling qualities, but also pointing out 
the reasons why the pastorate ought to be ter- 
minated. 

The conspiracy threw not only the church 
but the entire community into a fever of ex- 
citement. It was the one absorbing topic 
wherever two or three or more were gathered 
together. Of course the conspirators were too 
shrewd to give out publicly the real reason for 
their action. The ostensible reasons assigned 
were “general dissatisfaction,” “deterioration 
48 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


in the preaching/’ “too much politics and not 
enough religion,” “personal dislike,” etc. While 
these reasons were so preposterous as to de- 
ceive none who did not want to be deceived, 
they passed current and relieved the conspir- 
ators from the necessity of giving their real 
reasons. 

When affairs were ripe Franklin Major and 
Carter Haynes called on the minister. With 
every evidence of regret they informed their 
pastor of the dissatisfaction which had grown 
up, of the form which it had taken, and of the 
serious financial embarrassment in which the 
church found itself. What would he suggest? 
Looking his false friends straight in the eye 
in a way that made them uneasy, Dr. Jennings 
replied immediately: 

“There is only one thing possible under the 
circumstances, gentlemen. I will resign.” 


49 


CHAPTER FOUR. 

The Unexpected. 

T HE meeting* of the Princeville Congre- 
gational Church which was called to 
act on the pastor’s resignation was a 
mass meeting. Feeling ran high in the com- 
munity. Everybody was lined up on one side 
or the other. The rank and file of the congre - 
gation was solidly on the minister’s side and 
emphatically in favor of declining to accept 
the resignation. But those whom “the organ - 
ization” could control, and they comprised 
most of the real leaders in the church, were 
quietly but firmly in favor of accepting the 
resignation. 

All sorts of rumors were afloat. Some said 
that the clergyman had received a call to a 
large city church. Others that he was going 
to be married, — but just why such an increase 
in pastoral efficiency should call for a disso- 
lution of the pastoral relation was not apparent 
Another story was that he intended to with- 
draw from the ministry to take up literary 
work and lecturing in which he was notably 
successful. Still another report was that he 
was tired of the political struggle. But this 
was so utterly at variance with the minister’s 
5o 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


well known “staying qualities” that it was 
easily believed that Grafton started the rumor. 

There was a strained stillness when Major, 
as chairman of the board of trustees, called the 
meeting to order. Would Deacon Crackington 
please open the meeting with prayer? That 
worthy arose and besought the Almighty to 
bless everybody in general, including “the 
heathen who sit in darkness,” and those of us 
who live “in the glorious light of the Gospel,” 
and prayed that we might be worthy of our 
blessings and faithful to our duties, and con- 
cluded by asking Divine guidance in the im- 
portant business for the transaction of which 
they were assembled. In view of the fact that 
he and the others had agreed in advance as to 
exactly what should be done at the meeting 
it is difficult to see just where he expected the 
guidance of the Almighty to come in. 

Major then called on Mr. Haynes to state 
the object of the meeting. Rising, with a sheet 
of paper in his hand, Haynes announced that 
the meeting was called to act upon the resig- 
nation of the Rev. Hiram Jennings as pastor 
of the Princeville Congregational Church, 
which resignation he held in his hand and 
would proceed to read. After the usual intro- 
duction of date, place and formal address, the 
letter ran as follows: 


5i 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Dearly Beloved: 

Having been informed that a very 
considerable number in the church is 
opposed to the work and methods of 
the present ministry I do hereby pre- 
sent my resignation as minister of this 
church, the same to take effect imme- 
diately. 

Assuring you that my eagerness 
to be of service in the Master’s king- 
dom is equalled only by my willing- 
ness to step aside when my presence 
is no longer a help but a hindrance, 
and praying that God’s richest bless- 
ing may always be your portion, I re- 
main, Your Affectionate Pastor, 

HIRAM JENNINGS. 

Indignation that any one had dared to in- 
sinuate that the pastor’s presence was a “hin- 
drance” in any good work showed on many a 
set countenance while the simple tenderness of 
the closing words caused many an eye to grow 
dim. 

“Mr. Chairman,” continued Haynes, 
smooth and self-possessed, “I yield to no man 
in appreciation of Dr. Jennings’ sterling ability. 
He is a strong preacher and a faithful pastor. 
But no man can please everybody, and it is not 
strange, perhaps, that in his long pastorate of 
seven years even he should alienate a consid- 
52 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


erable element in the church. I, as treasurer, 
am in a position to know pretty accurately the 
feelings of the whole church toward the pastor. 
For when you ask a man to give his money 
you touch the spot nearest his heart. The 
number of those who are dissafifected has 
grown rapidly of late. I have been informed 
by various parties that their pledges to the 
church, amounting in the aggregate to some- 
thing over twelve hundred dollars, will be pos 
itively withdrawn unless there is a change of 
pastors. This, of course, presents an impos- 
sible situation. For, with such a defection as 
that, we not only could not pay our pastor his 
salary, but we would be in grave danger of per- 
manently splitting the church. The resigna- 
tion is, of course, presented in good faith. 
Under the circumstances the pastor does not 
care to stay. With us it is not a matter in 
which we can consult our feelings, but the ac- 
ceptance is a necessity. I, therefore, move, Mr. 
Chairman, that we accept the resignation.” 

The congregation sat in breathless silence 
during the reading of the resignation and the 
remarks of Haynes. Each one looked at his 
neighbor when Haynes sat down as if wonder- 
ing who would voice the general indignation 
at the idea of accepting the resignation, when 
Deacon Crackington, true to the coaching he 
had received, rose to his feet, cleared his 
53 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


creaky throat and addressed the chair. There 
was a general feeling of relief, for surely the 
Godly old deacon was about to speak with no 
uncertain sound in defence of his pastor. 

“Mr. Chairman, I am sure that I express 
the sentiment of this company when I say that 
Dr. Jennings is the best pastor that this church 
ever had.” A chorus of “Aniens” revealed a 
temper which made Major uneasy. “Our 
church has prospered under his administration 
until it has reached the highest point in its 
history.” Cries of “True,” “Yes,” “So it has,” 
greeted this tribute. “As a preacher he is 
earnest, scholarly, scriptural, and convincing. 
As a pastor he is cheering to the sick, kind to 
the unfortunate, cordial with strangers, and 
good to everybody.” Again there was a chorus 
of “Amens,” while some slangy person cried, 
“That's right.” 

“But,” — continued the deacon. A look of 
dismay swept over the room. A sound suspic- 
iously like a groan was heard. What had he to 
do with any “buts” after such a glowing 
tribute? 

“But, if conditions have arisen which make 
a continuance of his high usefulness out of the 
question I am too good a friend of Dr. Jennings 
to refuse to release him at his own request. Ob- 
viously it is to his interest to withdraw at flood 
tide rather than to wait for the ebb; and it 
54 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

would be much better for him to go now to 
some new field, where he could have a united 
church and repeat his splendid success, rather 
than to struggle on here with a divided con- 
stituency. Therefore, as a friend of the pastor 
and with an eye to his highest good, I second 
the motion.” 

The audience was aghast. Could they be- 
lieve their ears? Who would rise and speak 
what was bursting in their hearts for utter- 
ance? O, that the people might find a Voice! 
Dr. Lansing arose. A look of expectancy swept 
over the faces. He was a friend of the pastor’s 
and was regarded as a strong, good man. 

“Mr. Chairman, I would like to offer an 
amendment to the motion to the effect that we 
accept the resignation with greatest reluctance 
and that we bear our testimony to the splendid 
character and ability of Dr. Jennings.” 

“Do the gentlemen who made and seconded 
the original motion accept the amendment?” 
asked Major. Both Haynes and Crackington 
made haste to say “Certainly.” “Then,” said 
Major, “the amendment will be added without 
the formality of a vote. Are there any remarks 
on the question as amended?” 

There was an uneasy movement in the au- 
dience. Would nobody speak? It began to 
look as though Clifford was right in saying 
that the leaders would all be under control and 
55 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


that any opposition would be ineffective for 
lack of a strong voice to give it utterance. 

“All those in favor of the motion — So it 
was really going to be “railroaded” through! 
Hope sank in many a heart. Then the unex- 
pected happened. 

“Mr. Chairman,” said a bold, clear voice 
from a rear seat. All twisted their heads in 
nervous haste. It was plain, blunt, homely, 
honest, illiterate Sam Blizzard, the last man 
who might have been expected to raise his 
voice against such men as Deacon Crackington, 
Franklin Major, Dr. Lansing, Carter Haynes 
and the others. 

“Mr. Chairman, I don’t know as I ought to 
rush in where angels fear to tread but I’d just 
kind o’ like to know what it is that so many 
people have all of a sudden against The best 
pastor the church ever had’?” There was a ring 
in his voice which commanded attention. Major 
moved uneasily in his seat. Sam looked hard at 
Haynes, and he replied without the formality of 
addressing the chair that it was “general dis- 
satisfaction.” 

“General deviltry!” exclaimed Sam in a 
rage. “This is a conspiracy. A lot of people 
who ought to be in better business are joining 
hands with the Whisky Devil to drive out the 
bravest and most God-fearing minister we ever 
had.” 


56 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Mr. Chairman,” cried Haynes, leaping to 
his feet, “this is an outrage. Whatever opinion 
Mr. Blizzard may have of the rest of us he can- 
not go unrebuked in my presence when he 
speaks of Deacon Crackington as joining hands 
with the Whisky Devil.” 

Deacon Crackington’s piety was the con- 
spirators’ trump card. They were playing it 
rather early in the game. 

“That doddering old dolt!” said Sam with 
slashing sarcasm, “without wit enough to see 
that he is being used as a tool by the whisky 
crowd and without real religion enough to keep 
him from stabbing his pastor in the back!” 

The effect of these bold and startling words 
was indescribable. While many were shocked 
beyond measure at hearing the deacon’s piety 
thus fiercely challenged there was in the minds 
of most of the congregation a half conscious 
and hitherto unexpressed feeling that Deacon 
Crackington was getting into his dotage, and 
that while he was not a conscious hypocrite his 
piety had been greatly overrated. 

“Out of order,” shouted Major pounding on 
the table with a hymn book. There was no 
gavel in the church. 

“I may be out of order but I ain’t out of 
breath,” said Sam, looking the august chair- 
man straight in the eye, “and I’m a’goin’ to 
make one or two mild observations before this 
57 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


incident is closed. And it won’t do you no good 
to call time on me till I’ve done, neither.” 

Here Haynes “butted in.” 

“Perhaps this balmy zephyr, who so freely 
defames men better than himself, can explain 
the attitude of our honorable chairman on this 
question.” 

There was a breathless, heart-halting sil- 
ence. Would this dashing champion, who had 
leaped into the lists and was smiting right and 
left with such mighty blows, dare to raise his 
cudgel against the most highly honored citizen 
in the community? Slowly and deliberately 
Sam began, looking straight at Major in a way 
that made that worthy wince: 

“I don’t know why our honorable chairman 
should want to throw down his pastor on ac- 
count of a little deficit which he could pay out 
of either vest pocket any day and never miss it 
any more than I do when I hand a newsboy a 
nickel and tell him to keep the change. But 
when I see him lining up with a lot of low 
down, lick-spittle, rat-hole politicians, that 
would make any honest man hold his nose till 
he could get away, you can’t make me believe 
that he is doing it for nothing.” 

Cries of “Order” and “For Shame” came 
from different parts of the room, and Dr. Lan- 
sing leaped to his feet: 

“Mr. Chairman, I protest against the de- 
58 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


faming of good men by this loud-mouthed ig- 
noramus. I call for a vote on the question.” 

Amid confused cries of “Question,” “Or- 
der,” “No,” “Go on, Sam,” the chairman said: 

“All those in favor — ” 

“Hold on there, Mr. Chairman,” said Sam, 
with the same ring of authority in his voice 
which had commanded a hearing every time he 
had spoken, “remarks are in order, I believe, 
and I still have a few up my sleeve.” 

“Mr. Chairman,” broke in Haynes, jumping 
up, “I rise to a point of order. That man has 
no right to denounce both the religion and the 
temperance principles of those of us who think 
it wise to accept the pastor’s resignation.” 

In a moment Haynes was sorry that he 
spoke. 

“You blathering hypocrite,” said Sam, turn- 
ing full upon him, “when I saw you sneaking 
out of the back door of Mike Bullen’s saloon 
this morning, like a pole cat, you didn’t stop to 
say whether it was your religion or your tem- 
perance principles that took you in.” 

Haynes shrank back into his seat as though 
struck by a blast of live steam. The crowd was 
delirious with joy. There was an atmosphere 
of expectant uncertainty. Nobody knew wh* re 
the lightning would strike next but everybody 
was sure that it would strike. The people had 
found their Voice. No man cared again to 
59 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


brave the Blizzard. Sam had the floor. 

“It don’t take no eye at all to see that this 
whole thing is a frame-up to beat Dr. Jennings. 
And it don’t take no brains to tell who is back 
of it. It is a shame and a disgrace to the church 
to kick out a minister for standing for temper- 
ance and public decency. The very men who 
are fighting him wouldn’t have no use for him 
if he wasn’t man enough to fight ’em to a fin- 
ish. I understand that some people have been 
calling our minister a quitter for resigning. 
Why, he is just simply putting it up to us to 
see if we are quitters. He says in his resigna- 
tion that he has been informed that a consider- 
able number are opposed to him. He had to 
resign to find out if they were in the majority. 
He says that he does not want to be a hind- 
rance in the Master’s kingdom. That means 
that we are to vote on the question as to wheth- 
er we regard him as a hindrance. If by our 
votes we show that we do not regard him as a 
hindrance he will stay and fight this rotten po- 
litico-whisky gang until the whole ‘machine’ 
goes to the scrap heap. And I might remark 
in passing that any man who says that Hiram 
Jennings is a hindrance to any good work is 
as foul-mouthed a liar as ever dropped into the 
bottomless pit. Some of these pious church- 
men seem greatly troubled lest their defection 
may split the church. Bah ! Let a few of the 
60 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


whited sepulchers get out and the church will 
smell sweeter. The amendment which was 
tacked on, like a tail on a kite to make it fly, 
makes a liar of everyone who votes for it. For 
it says that we accept the resignation with the 
greatest reluctance, while if we have any re- 
luctance at all we won’t accept it. The big bluff 
which this gang of knockers puts up is that the 
salary can’t be raised if they and their friends 
back off the subscription list. Now listen to 
me while I call them. If this resignation is not 
accepted I will double my own subscription 
and I will take that list out of Mr. Haynes’ 
hands and raise money enough to cover their 
deficit dollar for dollar. Now it is strictly up 
to this church to show whether it means busi- 
ness or not; whether it has the courage of its 
convictions ; whether it dares to do right even 
when it costs something; whether it will back 
up a brave pastor, and whether it fears God Al- 
mighty or the gang of political blacklegs who 
run this town.” 

While Sam was blazing away with his gat- 
ling-gun style of speech not a breath nor a rus- 
tle was heard. When he sat down there was a 
burst of applause in which were mingled cries 
of “Amen,” “Good,” and “That’s right.” Major, 
with set face, rose and said: 

“All in favor of the motion manifest it by 
saying “Ay.” 

61 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


About a dozen voices answered “Ay” ra- 
ther noisily. 

“Those opposed say “No,” ordered the 
chairman. 

“NO,” answered a great chorus of voices. 

“The motion is carried,” said Major with 
startling audacity. 

“I call for a rising vote,” cried Sam. 

Slowly and with obvious reluctance the 
chairman said: 

“All in favor of the motion please rise.” 

Standing up to vote for a measure that is 
hopelessly lost is a very different matter from 
calling out “Ay” from one’s seat. Of those 
who had voted in favor of the motion only 
Deacon Crackington and Carter Haynes rose 
to their feet. 

“Those opposed rise,” said Major. 

With one impulse the entire congregation 
seemed to spring to their feet. 

“The motion appears to be lost,” said 
Major. 

And the meeting adjourned. 


62 


CHAPTER FIVE. 

The Strong Hand. 

M IKE, we’re up against it.” The Hon. 

William E. Grafton was pacing the 
floor of his office nervously when the 
thick-necked saloonkeeper entered. 

“What’s the matter, Bill. Losin’ your 
nerve?” said Bullen, rolling the stump of a ci- 
gar over in his mouth and taking a seat on the 
corner of the table. 

“Not on your life,” said Grafton, self asser- 
tively, “ but we’re going to lose this election.” 

“Aw, g’wan. I’ll lose my taste for booze 
and you’ll lose your taste for graft before Boss 
Cliff will lose an election.” 

“Well, we’re going to lose all right. Even 
Cliff is scared.” 

“Cliff scared! Now you’ve got me listen- 
ing. Uncork and tell me what there is in earth 
or hell that can scare the boss.” 

“Well, of course, he don’t go round show- 
ing no white feather, but I can see that he is 
having troubles that he never had before.” 
“Name the brand.” 

“The preacher.” 

“What, that white-livered text shooter! 

63 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Cliff can have him canned if he bats an eye at 
us.” 

“Cliff tried to have him canned but lost out.” 

“Cliff lost! How could he lose when he 
holds all the cards?” 

“He went out of his class. Instead of stick- 
ing to politics he stirred up a church row and 
got stung.” 

“Who is there in that gospel ice-house that 
had the nerve to buck against the boss?” 

“That pig-headed Blizzard put up a roar 
and stopped the game just when it was all 
framed to slide the parson down the resignation 
chute.” 

“We’ll send Blizzard where they never have 
anything but hot winds.” Mike’s face was far 
from amiable. 

“That’s the talk, Mike. Only we mus’n’t 
waste any time on Blizzard. Jennings is the 
man we must get.” Grafton now had lowered 
his tone and was growing confidential in man- 
ner. 

“How are you going to do it?” asked Bul- 
len bluntly. 

“You’re going to do it, Mike, with your lit- 
tle bung starter.” 

“Not fer mine,” said the bully. “I don’t 
take on no knock-out jobs just to keep you in 
your easy chair at the capitol. You’ll have to 
win your own fight.” 


64 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“But this is your fight, Mike. If I lose my 
seat you stand to lose your business. For unless 
we can side track the local option bill Prince 
county will go as dry as an empty beer wagon.” 

“What does Cliff think about it?” asked Bul- 
len, growing suddenly serious at the mention 
of local option. 

“He ain’t a’goin’ to know a thing about it 
till it’s pulled off. We’ll hand him a neat little 
surprise. By removing his enemy without giv- 
ing him either trouble or risk we’ll have a pull 
with him in the future that nothing can beat.” 

“But if we slug him just before election it’ll 
make more votes for local option than the 
preacher could make in a lifetime,” said Bullen, 
cautiously. 

“Not if we throw them off the scent,” re- 
plied Grafton with fox-like cunning. “You pick 
off his ticker and bank roll. Drop them into 
the pocket of the first hobo that comes in for a 
schooner. Then have him pinched. That 
makes it a clear case of knock-out and robbery, 
and the hold-up man caught with the goods.” 

“But where’s a fellow going to find a chance 
to hand it to him? That’s no daylight job and 
his nibs is no night hawk.” 

“Nothing easier,” said Grafton, warming to 
the plot as he noted how easily Bullen was be- 
ing led on. “Every Wednesday night after 
prayer meeting he walks from the church 
65 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


down Second street to his home. This takes 
him past Joyce and Beam’s lumber yard at just 
about 9:15. He is almost always alone. It 
isn’t a hundred feet from your back door to the 
big lumber piles. You can have a bunch of the 
boys in your place all the evening. Pass around 
a little beer and make them happy. A few min- 
utes after nine slip out quietly, cut the electric 
light wire, making the street as dark as a hole 
in a nigger’s plug hat. Edge up close to the 
sidewalk. Listen for his footstep. Then, biff, 
and you’re back in a minute drinking with the 
boys. When the holler is raised the boys will 
swear you out an iron-clad alibi if you should 
need it. It’s a cinch, Mike. You don’t take no 
chance at all. You can’t lose.” 

Mike, however, was not so sure. 

“But s’pose I miss? They say he used to 
be a hot shot pitcher on his college team, and 
his gym work keeps him in great form. I don’t 
want no mix up with him.” 

“Now, don’t come the baby act, Mike. 
Didn’t you just call him a white-livered text 
shooter?” 

“Don’t you talk to me about no baby act, 
you big duffer,” said Bullen, with a growl. 
“You’re framing up this game so that you take 
all the stakes and I take all the risk.” 

“Why, Mike, there ain’t any risk at all,” 
said Grafton, soothingly, as one would stroke 
66 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

the ruffled neck of a bull pup. “When you land 
on him in the dark with your big stick he don't 
stand no more show than a baby in a bear's 
cage. Putting him down and out will not only 
help me, but it will give you a great stand-in 
with Cliff and may save your business. I don’t 
know what better stakes you could want in a 
sure thing game. Come, now, old man, just 
take on this little job and you’ll never be sorry." 

“When could we do it?" said Bullen hesitat- 
ing. 

“Tonight. This is Wednesday." 

“Tonight!" Bullen’s eyes grew big. 

“Sure. The sooner the quicker." 

“All right," said Bullen, setting his jaw. 

“Good," said Grafton in glee, seizing Bul- 
len’s right hand in his own and slapping him 
on the back with his left. “You’re the game 
cock. But say, play it safe. We don’t want no 
ambulance case. It must be to the morgue with 
him." 

To which amiable admonition Bullen grim- 
ly replied : 

“Trust your uncle with his little slap stick." 


6 ; 


CHAPTER SIX. 

Mike’s Mistake. 

T HE night was clear and cool. The 
young moon was so near the horizon 
that the night was comparatively 
dark in spite of the stars. The roar of the 9:12 
Chicago express could be heard dying away in 
the distance. The baying of a hound on the 
hilltop was answered by a deep bark from the 
opposite side of the town. Then all was still. 
The air itself seemed hushed and listening. 
Suddenly the arc light at the corner of Second 
and Pearl streets went out. But there was no- 
body on the streets to notice it. A bit of shingle 
lying on the ground behind a big lumber pile 
snapped. Then all was still again. 

A quick, firm footstep is heard. It is ap- 
proaching. In the dim light the erect, vigorous 
figure of a young man can be seen. Wearing 
a light overcoat and stiff hat, he strides along 
in confident security passing within two feet of 
the towering pile of lumber. A burly figure, 
armed with a baseball bat, takes a step out of 
the shadow. The bat swings swiftly, there is 
a muffled thud, and the victim goes down like 
a sack of grain without even a groan. Quick 
as thought the assassin rolls the motionless 
68 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

form over and reaches for watch and wallet, 
when he utters a cry of terror. 

“My God, it's Cliff !” 

The look of unspeakable horror on his face 
gave way at once to one of fear and caution as 
a swift, strong step is heard approaching. Mike 
had just time to reach for his bat when Hiram 
Jennings strode up. With a muttered curse 
the bully said, “Til get you yet,” striking 
viciously as he spoke squarely at the minister’s 
head. But, alas for Mike ! The college athlete 
is on his guard and all of the bully’s worst fears 
are realized. With lynx-like agility Jennings 
side-stepped the blow, and, as the club went 
crashing to the ground, he landed a full arm, 
right handed swing squarely on Bullen’s jaw. 
Bullen went down and out. Mike is reported to 
have said at a later time that if he had his 
choice he would rather be kicked by a mule 
than “connect with the gospel slinger’s good 
right.” 

With one glance at Bullen’s silent form, Dr. 
Jennings bent over the other prostrate body 
and discovered that it was his worst enemy. 
Hastily slipping his right hand over the heart 
he felt the throb of life. “Help, help,” he cried 
at the top of his voice, at the same time raising 
James’ head and trying to restore him to con- 
sciousness. Carter Haynes happened to be 
passing on Front street, half a block away, and 
69 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


he came on the run. Picking James up bodily 
they started with him to Dr. Quackenbos’ drug 
store on the corner. Meeting the night police- 
man on the way they directed him to Bullen’s 
resting place. The thug regained consciousness 
just in time to recognize the officer and was 
promptly clapped into “the village bastile,” to 
use the favorite expression of the Princeville 
Recorder. 

At the drug store Dr. Dexter, who was 
quickly summoned, pronounced James’ injuries 
not necessarily serious. The blow, which would 
have felled an ox, had it landed full and fair, 
had, luckily for James, struck on the side of his 
head. The stiff Derby had broken and de- 
flected the blow somewhat. There was a great 
contusion on the side of the head and a large 
purple swelling on the shoulder where the 
glancing bat had stopped. James quickly re- 
sponded to the restoratives which were admin- 
istered and opened his eyes. As he looked 
around upon the shelves full of bottles, the 
show cases, and the circle of faces about him 
he asked with imperturbable coolness: 

“What kind of a deal is this?” 

The tense anxiety found relief in a general 
laugh at this characteristic question. When 
told he had been nearly brained by a sandbag- 
ger he felt of his bandaged head and, without 
saying a word, cautiously raised himself to his 
70 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


feet. When asked how he felt he said with la- 
conic brevity: “Groggy.” Declining all other 
offers of assistance he steadied himself on Car- 
ter Haynes' arm and walked to his home. 




CHAPTER SEVEN. 

Playing It Safe. 

T HE next morning Clifford was at his 
office as usual. There was a bandage 
around his head, he moved his left 
arm with difficulty, and he had what he called 
an exploding headache. His first callers were 
Grafton and Bullen. Grafton had persuaded 
Major to furnish bail for Bullen. The church- 
man’s scruples against going bail for a saloon- 
keeper and would-be assassin were overcome 
by Grafton’s assurance that the good of the or- 
ganization required it. Then, too, the fact that 
Bullen was a large depositor in the First Na- 
tional Bank doubtless had its weight. 

James knew how the “accident” had hap- 
pened. For Playnes, after helping James to his 
home, had learned the facts from Grafton, and 
had hurried back to James’ room where the two 
spent a large part of the night in conference. 
So, when the two unhappy conspirators came 
hurrying in to make atonement for their well- 
nigh fatal blunder, their visit was not unex- 
pected. 

James sat back in his armchair looking into 
space, a cigar between his teeth, ignoring the 
presence of his agitated visitors.. Bullen’s re- 
morse was abject. Throwing himself on his 
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A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

knees at Clifford’s feet, he blubbered like a 
baby. 

“I didn’t mean to, Cliff, ’fore God I didn’t. 
I’d go and lay down under the fast freight for 
you, Cliff, any day. I aimed the slam at the 
preacher for fighting you, and then in the dark 
you walked under and took it. O, O, O, I’d 
rather have took it myself!” 

Clifford puffed away in motionless silence. 
Grafton was too pompous to demean himself 
by kneeling as Bullen had done, but in his own 
way he was just as deeply moved. With tears 
in his eyes, he walked up and said: 

“Why, Cliff, we wouldn’t a hurt you — ” 

He brought his big hand down with affec- 
tionate force on Clifford’s shoulder — the left 
shoulder. A sudden howl of pain from the boss 
scared the well meaning blunderers into 
spasms. James leaped to his feet and the lan- 
guage used by the man who was noted for his 
self-control and well-measured speech would 
not look well in print. 

“You blankety blank blunderers,” contin- 
ued Clifford, after his language had become 
comparatively mild, as he paced the floor and 
gently rubbed the injured shoulder, “so you’re 
not satisfied with your job last night and you’ve 
come back to finish me today!” 

“O, no, no, no !” cried the two wretched men, 
who were wringing their hands in despair. 

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A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Shut up,” said Clifford savagely. “I’ve a 
damn good mind to send you both over the 
road for assault with intent to kill.” 

“O, Cliff,” cried Mike in mortal fear, “we 
were just tryin’ to help you in your fight.” 

“You blundering bull head, who asked you 
for help ? How dared you butt your thick skull 
into my affairs?” 

“Bill framed it up,” said Mike, eager to 
shift the blame and “get from under.” 

Clifford turned his attention to Grafton in 
a way that made that worthy quake with fear. 

“Didn't you have any more sense than to 
tell that booze fighting fat head to stick his 
coarse paw into the smooth game we are play- 
ing? He has balled up the whole business and 
played into the hands of the enemy.” 

“Thank God, Cliff, that his aim was bad in 
the dark. But aside from your bumps, which 
time will heal, no harm has been done.” The 
Honorable Bill was so frightened by past 
events that he had not looked ahead. 

“Why, you big puttypate, you haven't any 
more wit than Mike. Everybody knows that 
Mike had no reason to bat me and every reason 
to lay out Jennings. The whole town will 
know that it was a simple case of mistaken 
identity. The Anti-Saloon crowd will raise a 
big holler and get votes enough to win this elec- 
tion twice over.” 


74 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Clifford’s fat-witted aids were appalled at 
this probable consequence of their ill starred 
efforts. 

‘Til swear that you wasn’t wise to the 
game,” said Mike in desperate eagerness to 
clear his superior. 

“The fact that I walked into the trap shows 
that I wasn’t wise,” replied Clifford. 

“We’ll have to frame up some reason why 
Mike should want to slug you, Cliff,” said 
Grafton. 

“That’s the first bit of horse sense you have 
shown,” was Clifford’s complimentary an- 
swer. 

“There ain’t no reason in all hell could make 
me slug you, Cliff,” said Mike with unquestion- 
able sincerity. 

“I have it,” said Clifford quietly. “We’ll 
tell the reporters that I ordered Mayor Jones 
to revoke Mike’s license because there had been 
too many complaints about his selling to min- 
ors and drunkards.” 

“But, Cliff,” broke in Mike, “I wouldn’t use 
a bat on you for that.” 

“No, I know you wouldn’t, Mike,” with the 
first approach to kindness in his tone, “but you 
must say that you did. That will give me a 
stand-in with the reform gang and perhaps 
save a few votes. I’ll have Jones revoke your 
license and say that that was what put you 

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A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


on the war path. After election you can take 
out another license in the name of your bar- 
tender, McCoy.” 

“But you won’t let me go to jail, will you, 
Cliff?” Mike’s fear was pathetic. 

“O, I’ll have the state’s attorney see that 
the case is nolle prossed,” said Clifford reas- 
suringly. 

“That’ll make a hit with the church crowd,” 
put in Grafton. “They’ll call it forgiving your 
enemy.” 

That all kinds of callers came to the law 
offices of Clifford James, Attorney at Law, on 
all sorts of errands, was seen at this moment 
when the door opened and Goldie Arlington 
entered. Goldie was stunning. Purple and 
black were her colors this morning, and al- 
though purple and black, or at least lavender 
and black, are considered as the modest colors 
for old ladies, Goldie combined them in a cos- 
tume the effect of which was dashing. The 
trim tailor made gown of fine black woolen 
goods, which shaped itself like a glove to her 
rotund figure, had a yoke of purple silk covered 
with black lace. Her black jacket was lined 
and faced with purple silk which peeped out 
at lapels, cuffs and back flaps. Her large black 
hat was surmounted by a great purple plume. 
Her black gloves were stitched upon the back 
with purple silk. The dainty patent leather 
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A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

Oxfords were laced and tied with purple rib- 
bons. And whenever she switched her skirts, 
which she did with careless freedom when cros- 
sing the streets, going up stairs, or throwing 
herself into an easy chair, she displayed a pur- 
ple silk petticoat and silk stockings of the same 
rich hue. A traveling man who had recognized 
“Goldie” had told Clifford that her father was 
an honest laborer in a small Ohio town, that his 
name was Pat Buttles, and that when “Goldie” 
was earning a modest but honest living as 
waitress in a hotel she was known as Peggy 
Buttles. But nature had endowed Peggy with 
the fatal gift of beauty. She early acquired a 
taste for “easy money,” as she styled it, and 
when she came to Princeville she was “Goldie 
Arlington.” The traveling man swore that 
when Goldie was Peggy her hair was a very 
plebeian brick red in color. But, thanks to per- 
oxide, her fluffy hair was now a pale yellow. 
Hence the name Goldie. The Arlington she 
got from a certain fashionable boulevard. 

“Hello, Goldie,” said Grafton and Bullen 
at once. 

“Hello, Cliff,” said Goldie, ignoring the 
others, “Are you busy this morning?” 

“Not if you want to see me,” said Clifford 
gallantly. He waved his hand to the two dis- 
graced henchmen, and they, fearful of his fur- 
ther displeasure, retreated precipitately. 

77 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

“Now, Goldie, what can I do for you?” said 
Clifford when they were alone together. 

“O, Cliff, they’re trying to put me out of 
business,” said Goldie leaning back in the big 
office chair, crossing her knees, and kicking out 
a pretty little foot petulantly. 

“What’s the matter? Have you been get- 
ting noisy again?” asked Clifford a little stern- 
ly. 

“Not a bit of it. But young Si Henstraw 
and some of the boys have been calling rather 
frequently of late. Old Si began to suspect 
him and followed him to my house. He raised 
an awful holler and wants my house pulled. 
He has been to Mayor Jones and Chief Lock- 
hart and they said I had better see you.” 

An idea flashed over James. In spite of his 
customary reserve he leaned quickly forward 
in his chair his face aglow with eagerness. 

“I’ll take care of you all right, Goldie, but 
I want you to pull off a little job for me.” 

“Lead me to it.” 

“It’ll take some nerve. I want you to com- 
promise Dr. Jennings.” 

“Dr. Jennings,” exclaimed Goldie in un- 
feigned astonishment. “What chance will I 
have with that ice berg?” 

“Nothing easier,” said Clifford in his old 
tone of easy confidence. “Call at his study 
tomorrow morning at five minutes before ten. 
78 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Tell him some tale of woe. Get as near him 
as you can. I will have some women call upon 
him at ten. When you hear them coming throw 
yourself into his lap and grab him around the 
neck. That’s all you’ll have to do. The 
women will do the rest,” concluded Clifford 
grimly. 

“O Glory! I should think that would take 
nerve! I would sooner tackle a polar bear.” 

“He is my enemy, Goldie, and I’ve got to 
get rid of him. We have fooled with him long 
enough and now I intend to play it safe. You 
can queer him with a touch.” 

“But he looks so terrible stern that I’m 
afraid of him.” 

“Looks never hurt anyone, Goldie, and he 
won’t bite. You just mix with him when the 
others are coming in and I’ll see that the police 
don’t give you any trouble.” 

“All right, I’ll go against him. But don’t 
be surprised if I drop dead with heart failure,” 
said Goldie, covering her real shrinking from 
the business by a kind of mock dismay. 

That evening Clifford called on Kate. The 
handsome young politician was a frequent 
guest in the fine hill-top home of his chief lieu- 
tenant, and when the maid opened the door 
she made bold to say that Mr. Haynes was 
not at home. 

“All right,” said Clifford, to whom this bit 

79 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


of information did not happen to be news. “I 
want to see Miss Haynes.” 

Hanging up his coat and hat with the air 
of one who is perfectly at home he sauntered 
into the drawing room and lolled back com- 
fortably in an immense leather covered rocker. 
He waited a few moments — about as many as 
a young lady usually requires to touch up her 
hair and make effective use of her powder 
chamois — when a light step tripped noiselessly 
down the thickly carpeted stairs and Kate en- 
tered. 

“Good evening, Kate,” said Clifford rising 
and shaking hands cordially. 

“O, how do you do, Mr. James?” said Kate, 
all in a flutter. She longed to call him Clifford 
but didn't quite have the courage. “I'm so 
happy to see you safe and sound. It’s a won- 
der that that horrible bully didn’t kill you.” 

“My enemies have always said I have a 
thick skull and now they can prove it,” said 
Clifford lightly. 

“But you were badly hurt, Papa says.” 

“O ! I have a lump on my head big enough 
to be my bump of depravity, and when I move 
my left arm my shoulder feels like a nest of 
hornets playing rough house.” Clifford moved 
his left arm gently and caressed the shoulder 
with his right hand. 

“How fortunate it was that Dr. Jennings 
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A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


came up just then! Everybody says that he 
saved your life.” 

Clifford’s face grew black. 

“See here, Kate, I am not only going to 
show that I trust you but that I believe that 
a woman can keep a secret.” 

At his fierce frown and intense manner 
Kate’s eyes grew big. 

“Bullen wasn’t gunning for me but for Jen- 
nings. When he discovered his mistake he 
was so scared that Jennings had no trouble in 
knocking him out. I took the blow that was 
intended for Jennings, and then he walks up, 
makes a grand stand play, and poses as a life 
saver.” To have his enemy praised as his de- 
liverer was like having his arteries filled with 
acid. 

“Why don’t you tell people that it was a 
mistake so that they will know that you were 
not saved by him but that he escaped by your 
misfortune?” 

“If it were known that a saloonkeeper had 
tried to club the minister it would make enough 
votes for Haskins and the reform crowd to 
snow us all under. Bullen was a fool and acted 
without authority, but now we must keep 
quiet and take the consequences.” 

“I’m afraid it’s going to help the reform 
crowd anyway,” said Kate. “At the meeting 
of the Woman’s Club this afternoon everybody 
81 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


was singing the minister’s praises and making 
him out a great hero.” 

What Kate said enraged Clifford the more. 
The note of spite in her voice emboldened him 
to proceed. 

“Kate,” said he, leaning forward in his 
chair and talking in a low, intense voice, “we’ve 
got to discredit him or he’ll have us all beat. 
Your father’s position, mine, Grafton’s, and the 
fate of the party itself in this district all de- 
pend on his defeat. He is more than the back- 
bone of the opposition. He is the brains and 
the life-blood, too. If we can dispose of him 
the rest will be easy. I have a plan which will 
wipe his name off the slate in a hurry, and I 
want your help.” 

“My help!” said the girl in utter astonish- 
ment, “What can I do?” 

“Can you trump up some errand which will 
take you and Mrs. Major and Marjorie to the 
minister’s study tomorrow morning at ten?” 

“Wh-why, perhaps. Marjorie and I were 
talking about asking him to find an assistant 
for our Primary Department in the Sunday 
school, as it is getting too large for us.” 

“That’s it,” broke in Clifford eagerly. “Go 
to see him tomorrow at ten. Be on time to the 
minute, and be sure to take Mrs. Major with 
you.” 

“All right,” said Kate quite bewildered, “but 
82 




*'kate,” said he, leaning forward in his chair and talking 

PAVE US BEAT.” 








IN A LOW, INTENSE VOICE, "WE’VE GOT TO DISCREDIT HIM OR HE'LL 

— Seepage 82. 













... . 










r*. 

V • 









































A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

how is our calling going to discredit him?” 

“If you time your call just right and enter 
quickly you will see something which will give 
a black eye to the parson’s reputation for saint- 
liness.” 

“Yes, but wh-what?” she asked hesitating. 

“Never mind about that now, my dear.” 
Clifford was warming up. “You just play your 
hand without losing your nerve and we’ll soon 
have him cinched.” 

Clifford went home with the exultant feel- 
ing of one who scents victory just ahead. Kate 
retired with the unquiet feeling of one who is 
playing a new and a doubtful game, but who 
is determined to choke all scruples and win 
at any cost. 


CHAPTER EIGHT. 

The Trap Sprung. 

H IRAM JENNINGS was opening his 
morning's mail and dictating answers 
to his young stenographer, Harry 
Clark. There were letters from charitable or- 
ganizations appealing for help, an invitation 
to lecture before a small country church for 
the benefit of the Ladies' Aid Society, a dozen 
or more letters from the township chairmen 
of the Anti-Saloon League, and, best of all, 
one from his mother in the old Massachusetts 
home. He was just finishing the dictating 
when a rap was heard at the study door. 

“Come in," said the minister in his brisk, 
business-like manner. 

The door opened and in stepped Goldie. 
Her garb was irreproachably modest, being en- 
tirely of black. But even this simple color 
scheme, suggestive of morning, set off her 
blonde hair to advantage and made out an ef- 
fective contrast to her fair complexion. 

Dr. Jennings arose as she entered and the 
young man looked up from his typewriter. 
Goldie was evidently taken aback at seeing the 
stenographer. She was quick-witted and re- 
sourceful, however, and advanced boldly to a 
84 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


more difficult task than she had at first anti- 
cipated. 

“This is Dr. Jennings, I believe ?” she be- 
gan with her most gracious smile. 

“It is, Madam,” replied the minister in a 
tone at once polite and reserved. 

“My name is Miss Arlington, and I’ve called 
to see you in regard to uniting with the 
church. ” 

“O, indeed,” said the minister in a more 
cordial tone. “Have a chair, Miss Arlington.” 

Goldie sat down. Does it seem strange that 
Dr. Jennings did not at once recognize this 
adventuress whom every other up-to-date man- 
about-town in Princeville knew by sight and 
by reputation? If so, the reason lies in this 
fact, that the minister is always the last person 
in the community to hear of any evil. Sin hides 
itself at the approach of the man of God. Let 
him join a group of men on the street and 
profanity is stopped, the unclean jest remains 
half told, quids of tobacco are spewed into the 
gutter, and cigar stubs are thrown away. When 
he enters a social group that is ripping a neigh- 
bor’s reputation to shreds the subject is chang- 
ed suddenly to the new orphanage or the great 
improvement in the music of the choir. Had 
Dr. Jennings a wife he doubtless would have 
been better informed. For women, by a kind 
of instinct of self protection, are very quick to 
85 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


detect those of their own sex who break down 
the regular and sacred relation between the 
sexes. And this information they flash along 
from one to another in, as it were, a Free 
Masonry of their common womanhood. Be- 
sides all this, Dr. Jennings was one of the most 
unworldly and least suspicious of men whose 
heart was full of the Gospel that thinketh no 
evil. 

“My membership at present is in the La 
Salle Avenue Congregational Church of Chi- 
cago, of which Dr. Brainerd is pastor,” said 
Goldie with bland assurance. She had picked 
the names of church and pastor out of a news- 
paper. “But I very carelessly left my church 
letter at home. Can’t you have your secretary 
run over and get it for me?” 

“Why certainly,” said Dr. Jennings. 

“Here is my card with the address, 832 
Colonial Avenue. Just ask the maid for the 
letter which I left lying on the center table 
in the parlor, said Goldie, handing the card 
to the young man. The stenographer had been 
in town only a week and was as innocent of 
the caller’s identity as was his employer. 

When the youth was gone Goldie resumed 
the conversation. 

“Are you acquainted with Dr. Brainerd, Dr. 
Jennings?” 

“O, yes ! I know him very well. We regard 
86 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


him as one of the leading men in the denom- 
ination/' 

u O! we all adore him in Chicago," said 
Goldie with great enthusiasm, “he's so big and 
imposing." 

“Well, intellectually, perhaps," said the 
minister slowly, “but, of course, physically he 
is like Zacchaeus, who was little of stature." 

“O, of course I meant intellectually," said 
Goldie, catching the clew and correcting her- 
self, “for he is so short that he can hardly see 
over the pulpiit." 

“Why, he never uses a manuscript, and I 
understood that he had removed the desk from 
his pulpit entirely," said the minister looking 
puzzled. 

“O, he never uses the desk himself," said 
the ever ready Goldie saving herself again, “but 
one day he had a visiting clergyman in the pul- 
pit with him who needed the desk and it was 
positively ludicrous to see Dr. Brainerd trying 
to see over the top of it." The recollection was 
so irresistible that Goldie hurts into a rippling 
laugh. 

“Well, I would not have said he was as 
short as that, said Dr. Jennings, again looking 
puzzled. 

“O, but he is though," said Goldie with 
sublime assurance, “You don't know him as 
well as I do." 


87 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Perhaps not/’ said Dr. Jennings quietly, 
“but we were classmates in the Theological 
Seminary.” 

The big clock in the steeple tolled ten. Gol- 
die’s straining ears heard footsteps on the 
stairs. They were right on time. 

“O, by the way, Doctor,” said Goldie, open- 
ing her little morocco hand bag, “I have here 
a note of introduction from Dr. Brainerd. I 
should have presented it before.” Rising 
quickly she stepped over to where he was sit- 
ting, fumbling the while in the little black bag. 
The steps were at the door. Crying out, as if 
in despair, “O, I’ve lost it,” she leaped into his 
lap and clasped him tightly around the neck, 
at the same time skillfully throwing her long 
black veil over his shoulders. At the same 
moment the door was opened by Kate’s ready 
hand and Mrs. Major and the two girls stepped 
in. 

For the fraction of a second there was a 
tableau of tragic significance. Then the min- 
ister leaped to his feet, broke the girl’s hold 
by sheer force and hurled her from him, crying, 
“Off, woman!” 

The violence of the push sent her back 
against the wall half way between the innocent 
victim and the three horrified spectators. With 
bosom heaving with a good imitation of one 
subjected to unjust severity, she said: 

88 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Well, you needn’t be so rough about it. I 
got away as quick as I could when I saw them.” 

“Villainous daughter of Rahab,” said Jen 
nings, white with impotent wrath and mortifi- 
cation, “how dare you throw yourself upon one 
who would not wipe his feet upon you? Who 
set you on to blast a good name with your 
blighting touch? Out of my sight lest I forget 
the respect due, not to you but to your sex, 
and throw you from the window, as they did 
Jezebel of old, that dogs may eat your flesh. 
Begone, I say.” 

Goldie needed no second invitation. Even 
her brazen effrontery was terrified at the min- 
ister’s towering passion. She glided swiftly 
from the room like a guilty shadow, the women 
drawing back their skirts as she passed as if 
in fear of contamination. 

The three spectators had stood in speech- 
less amazement. Marjorie had turned deadly 
pale and had scarcely drawn breath since the 
door had been opened. Kate had flushed to a 
flaming red, a guilty flush it was. Mrs. Major, 
with both hands upraised, was a perfect picture 
of the virtuous dowager scandalized beyond 
expression. 

It was the minister who spoke first. 

“I trust, Madam,” said he addressing him- 
self to Mrs. Major, “that it is obvious to you 

89 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


that I am the victim of an unscrupulous and 
a designing woman ?” 

'‘It is perfectly obvious, sir, that you have 
been guilty of conduct that is both shameful 
and scandalous,” said Mrs. Major in her iciest 
tones. “Come, girls, let us be going. It is 
too bad that we intruded at so interesting a 
moment.” The sarcasm of the last remark cut 
like a rip saw. 

“But, my dear Mrs. Major,” broke in the 
minister in desperation, “listen to me a mo- 
ment. This is a conspiracy to ruin me. I 
never saw this woman before. She was put up 
to it. She waited until she heard you at the 
door and then sprang into my lap.” 

“A likely story, indeed,” said the matron 
contemptuously, “The hussy deserves no sym- 
pathy, but we would have thought more of 
you if you had taken your share of the blame, 
like a man, and not have tried so roughly to 
throw all the blame on her.” 

“But I am blameless. I was attacked. She 
pretended that she wanted to join the church. 
How could I know that she came only to make 
trouble?” 

“The next time you call upon her perhaps 
you had better return that veil which is draped 
so gracefully over your shoulders,” said Mrs. 
Major coldly, waving the two girls through 
the door and following them out. 

90 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


The black veil which Goldie had thrown 
skillfully around his neck had escaped his no- 
tice in the excitement. Now he tore the un- 
offending gauze away, threw it on the floor, 
stamped upon it, then sank into his chair, put 
his head upon his desk, and sobbed great, hot, 
bitter, helpless tears. 


9i 


CHAPTER NINE. 

The Foundations Removed. 

N OTHING that had ever happened in 
Princeville or in that part of the 
state had shocked and appalled the 
entire population like the disgrace of Dr. Jen- 
nings. Men turned pale with horror. Women 
burst into tears at the downfall of him whom 
they had idolized almost as a saint. It was 
the sole topic of conversation in parlors, over 
back fences, on the street, in the market places, 
and wherever two or three persons chanced 
to meet. The heartbreaking part of it all was 
that there seemed to be no doubt whatever as 
to the minister's guilt. The evidence was ab- 
solutely damning and its source was unim- 
peachable. All faith in human nature seemed 
to be shattered. The general opinion, freely 
expressed, was that if Dr. Jennings could not 
be trusted then nobody could be trusted. Could 
there be any reality in religion when its chief 
representative was thus proved to be a hypo- 
crite? Could there be any sanctity in its cer- 
emonies when the hands which had been lifted 
in benediction had embraced a harlot? Could 
there be any honor in the heart of man when 
he who preached purity with shining face and 


92 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


impassioned eloquence was inwardly corrupt? 
People were asking blankly, Who can be 
trusted? All faith in each other seemed under- 
mined. It was as if the very foundations of 
society had been removed. 

The morning after the upheaval the Chi- 
cago dailies had proclaimed Princeville’s 
shame with headlines that were black and bold. 
One of them ran as follows: 

POPULAR PASTOR FALLS. 

Princeville Paralyzed. 

Well Known Divine in Woman Scrape. 

Then followed a detailed account of the 
compromising position in which the Rev. Dr. 
Hiram Jennings had been discovered, the un- 
questioned integrity of the witnesses, the great 
reputation of the minister for eloquence, purity 
and zeal in temperance reform, and the gloom 
and horror into which church and community 
were plunged. A double column picture ap- 
peared on the front page bearing the title, 
Rev. Hiram Jennings, D. D., pastor 
of the Princeville Congregational 
Church, preacher, lecturer, reformer, 
who is accused of preaching purity and 
practicing free love. 

All of the great dailies had the shameful 
story emblazoned with similar headlines and 
each had a picture showing Dr. Jennings’ re- 

93 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


fined and scholarly face. These papers went 
into practically every home in Princeville. After 
the first shock of shame and dismay at seeing 
the picture of the man, whom they had revered 
and honored for years, in the rogues’ gallery of 
the public press, much surprise was expressed 
at the “enterprise” of the great dailies in get- 
ting the details of the scandal, together with 
the pastor’s picture, the morning after the ex- 
plosion caused by Mrs. Major’s “discovery.” 
Even the other members of the organization 
did not know that Josh. Scribner, editor of the 
Courier, acting under a hint from Clifford, had 
wired the news to the papers and had sent the 
photos almost before Mrs. Major had reached 
her own home. 

There were at least two, however, who re- 
fused to believe the minister guilty. One was 
his loyal champion, Sam Blizzard, and the other 
was the hard-headed Silas Henstraw. Noth- 
ing short of a confession from Jennings him- 
self could shake Sam’s faith in his pastor. “Old 
Si” hated Goldie so cordially for luring his son 
from the straight path that he would believe 
her guilty of any scheme of blackmail or dev- 
iltry, and perhaps the contrary streak in his 
make-up led him to take the off side in this 
controversy as in most others. 

A group of men were standing in front of 
the post office just after the distribution of the 

94 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


morning mail, reading the newspapers and dis- 
cussing excitedly the all-absorbing topic. 

“I wouldn’t believe it,” said Dr. Dexter, “if 
his enemies made the charge. But Mrs. Major 
has always been one of his most loyal friends. 
And when she tells what she saw we’ve got 
to believe it.” 

“If anyone had asked me yesterday to name 
the very last man in this town who would go 
wrong I would have said Hiram Jennings,” 
said Greenwood, the grocer, with an air of one 
whose faith in all goodness was gone. 

“Well, we’ve all got to admire his nerve, 
anyway,” said Jenkins, the gas man, “for play- 
ing the dual role of saint and sinner with such 
a bold front that he had us all fooled.” 

“If there was only room for reasonable 
doubt somewhere I would jump at it,” said 
Judge Freeman sadly, “but it is a clear case.” 

“I ain’t no judicial luminary, but it’s far 
from a clear case to me,” said Silas Henstraw 
with a touch of sarcasm. Pie had never liked 
the judge since that functionary had decided 
a line fence suit against him. “His young 
secretary says that he hadn’t been out of the 
room ten minutes. That drab has gall enough 
to throw herself at a saint if it would suit 
her purpose.” 

This unexpected note of dissent from the 
95 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

general opinion brought out a volley of an- 
swers. 

“What purpose could she have?” said Jen- 
kins. “The only thing she is likely to get out 
of it is to have her house pulled.” 

“How could she know that the ladies were 
going to happen in just then? You wouldn't 
insinuate that the ladies had laid a trap to 
ruin the minister, would you?” said Judge Free- 
man growing caustic in turn. 

“The fact that they got busy so soon after 
they had chased out young Clark shows that 
it wasn’t their first meeting,” said Haynes who 
was standing in the door of the postoffice 
with cigar tilted high and who thus far had 
taken no part in the talk, but had been enjoying 
it hugely. 

Just then Sam joined the group. Haynes 
continued. 

“These bachelors are all alike. You can’t 
trust any of them when a woman is within 
reach.” 

It happened that there were three bachel- 
ors in the group. Dr. Dexter was one of them. 
He replied: 

“Perhaps you’re thinking of your own bach- 
elor days, Carter, but you’d better not put us 
all in the same class.” 

Mike Bullen was another of the bachelors. 
He only grinned with a knowing leer. 

96 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

Sam was the third. Looking hard at Haynes 
in a way that reminded him of the church meet- 
ing, Sam said slowly: 

“So far as your dirty sneer touches me I 
don't mind it any more than the yelp of any 
other cur. But if you refer to the smartest 
preacher and the best man that ever took his 
mail out of that post office I want to tell you 
that there ain’t nothing been proved against 
him yet, and until there is I ain’t a’goin’ to 
stand for no slanders by any foul-mouthed pol- 
iticians.” 

There was menace in Sam’s voice and man- 
ner and he looked big enough to back it up. 

“Humph!” said Haynes with affected in- 
difference, “If you are going to fight all who 
believe the charges you’ll have to take on every 
man in town.” 

“Not quite every man,” said Henstraw, glad 
of such sturdy reinforcements, “I vote not 
guilty.” 

“Aw! he was caught with the goods, and 
that’s all there is to it,” said Haynes with the 
air of one who closes a discussion. 

“I tell you it was a put up job,” said Sam 
with rising wrath, “and I’m agoin’ to find out 
who done it. And when I do I’ll hang your 
hide on the fence.” 

Haynes suddenly remembered that he had 
97 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


not balanced his books, and disappeared within 
the post office. 

Clifford sat in his office, his heart full of 
exultation over the downfall of his rival. The 
stratagem had worked perfectly. Goldie had 
followed his instructions to the letter and had 
“got away with it” better than he had dared 
to hope. So far as the campaign was concern- 
ed, and, better yet, so far as Marjorie was con- 
cerned, the minister was now eliminated. The 
spotless cloth of his sacred calling had been 
soiled by the polluting touch of the scarlet 
woman. No amount of explaining could offset 
that fact and undo its damning work. The 
incident was practically closed. While he was 
musing on these pleasant thoughts the door 
burst open and in rushed Franklin Major and 
Ezra Crackington. 

“Clifford, this is horrible, horrible!” ex- 
claimed Major in great agitation. “Nothing 
but the word of my own wife and daughter 
could have made me believe it. When he who 
was believed to be best and purest falls it 
seems as though all manhood falls too. We 
are all disgraced. Religion, morality, and de- 
cency are all discredited. There is no longer 
any one who can be trusted. This means so- 
cial anarchy and chaos.” 

“It’s bad enough, the Lord knows,” said 
Clifford reassuringly, “but not as bad as that. 

98 


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Even though the best looking apple is rotten 
at the core we do not think the whole barrel 
full is spoiled. There have been false leaders 
in every age, but the world goes right on grow- 
ing better. We will all breathe better after 
this storm has cleared the atmosphere.” Clif- 
ford uttered these high sentiments with open- 
faced candor and guileless eye. 

“Brother James is right,” said Deacon 
Crackington. “Even David, the sweet singer 
of Israel, fell, but virtue did not die nor did 
all faith in man disappear. We have been 
grievously deceived and our confidence has 
received a shock which we will never forget, 
but we must not think that all goodness has 
disappeared from the hearts of men.” 

“But what an accomplished hypocrite he 
is,” burst in Major. “It was only two weeks 
ago that he preached upon the text: ‘Blessed 
are the pure in heart/ with such enthusiasm 
and intensity that his face seemed to shine like 
an angel’s. It is a wonder that Almighty God 
did not strike him dead in the pulpit.” 

“Yes, as a hypocrite he is certainly a world 
beater,” said Clifford without turning a hair. 

“He can never stand in our pulpit again,” 
said Deacon Crackington in righteous indigna- 
tion. “It would be sacrilege for him again to 
stand behind the sacred desk.” 

“Yes,” said Major, “that is what we came 

99 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


to see you about. We have issued a hurry call 
for a meeting of the church for tonight to 
act upon the immediate dismissal of the pastor. 
We have served notice on Dr. Jennings of our 
purpose and informed him that he may be 
present to show cause why such action should 
not be taken if he so desires. I doubt if he 
will be brazen enough to attend. But, even 
if he is, nothing that he can say can alter the 
facts. We want to know if you will take charge 
of the case for us? Our action will doubtless 
be unanimous and probably also without de- 
bate. But the matter is so painful that we 
felt that, whatever statement of the case seemed 
nee-essary, had better be made by some fair- 
minded, disinterested party, like yourself. ,, 

Clifford bowed gravely. No, he didn’t even 
smile ! 

“Of course Dr. Jennings may come and 
make one of his impassioned addresses and play 
upon the sympathies of the women present, and 
we want you to be prepared to make a kind, 
but judicial and perfectly fair statement of 
the facts, so that the real issue may not be ob- 
scured,” said Deacon Crackington. 

“Gentlemen,” said Clifford slowly, “this is 
a painful service you require of me, but I feel 
that I owe it to the church and the community 
to take the case. I sincerely hope that the 


ioo 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


matter may be settled without further unpleas- 
antness. 

“I had some scruples,” said Deacon Crack- 
ington, as he and Major started for the door, 
“about asking him to resign merely on account 
of a money shortage, but now that we have 
found him to be a moral leper I say let him 
be cast into outer darkness.” And Deacon 
Crackington’s cane thumped on every one of 
the stairs as if he were driving the nails in 
his pastor’s coffin. 

A little later Carter Haynes came in. For 
once the self-contained party boss quite broke 
through his usual reserve. Jumping up and 
seizing Haynes by the hand with undisguised 
glee, he exclaimed: 

“Carter, it’s all over but throwing the 
cushions !” 

Then he told about the church meeting for 
that night, and about his being retained as 
counsel for the church. But Haynes was not 
so jubilant. He told of Sam’s promise to in- 
vestigate and his menacing words, and he con- 
cluded by saying: 

“This isn’t any foregone conclusion as long 
as that man is at large. We must take care of 
him or he is liable to start something that will 
break up the meeting, as he did before.” 

Clifford’s elation gave way immediately to 

IOI 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


his usual caution. After a moment's silence 
he said: 

“It's hard to see how he can uncover any- 
thing that will do his patron saint any good. 
But I guess you are right. We must play it 
safe. We'll have to tie him up somehow." 

For another moment or two Clifford gazed 
at an ink spot on his desk blotter without see- 
ing it. Haynes was silent also, not venturing 
to break in on the mental struggle which his 
superior was having with the problem. Sud- 
denly, without a word to Haynes by way of 
conference or explanation, Clifford reached for 
his desk phone and called up the office of the 
Gas and Electric Light Co. This was what 
Haynes heard: 

“Hello! Is that you, Jenk? . . . Say, just 
step over to the office for a minute, please. 
Right away . . . Good bye." 

The clear, level tones of the boss were known 
to his friends so that he never had to tell them 
who was talking. Then he rang up Bullen's 
saloon. And this is all he said: 

“Hello, Mike? . . I want to see you right 
away. Come right up. Good bye." 

He had hardly rung off and leaned back 
in his chair when footsteps were heard. Both 
were coming. Jenkins had received word first 
but Mike's saloon was nearer, which offset the 


102 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


handicap. As the four drew up around the big 
oak table, Clifford said: 

“I want you fellows to help me beat the 
minister.” 

“The minister,” exclaimed Bullen, rubbing 
his swollen jaw, “Not fer mine. I’d rather 
tackle a mad bull or a grizzly bear. Excuse 
me.” 

“O, we’ll handle the minister this time our- 
selves,” said Clifford, when the laugh at Mike’s 
expense had subsided, “We want you to take 
care of his man Blizzard.” 

“I ain’t taking on any more knock-out jobs 
of any kind,” said Mike sullenly. “I’d sooner 
sell booze. It ain’t quite so quick but it’s a 
damn sight more sure, and there ain’t no risk.” 

“We don’t want anybody knocked out, 
Mike,” said Clifford. “All we want is to keep 
Blizzard in a good safe place till after the meet- 
ing tonight is over.” 

“I can control his movements till six 
o’clock,” said Jenkins, “but he quits work then. 
How do you expect to hold him after that?” 

“That’s what I called you in for,” said Clif- 
ford. “Mike, at about 5 130 this afternoon you 
telephone Jenk. that the electric light in your 
basement beer vault is out of order. Then, 
Jenk., you tell Blizzard to hurry right over and 
put it in shape. As soon as he steps into the 
vault, Mike, slam the door on him, and keep 


103 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


him there until we telephone you that the meet- 
ing is over. You can say that McCoy shut the 
door by mistake.” 

Haynes looked at Clifford with the un- 
bound admiration with which mediocrity pays 
reverence to genius. Jenkins, who scrupled 
not to play a foul trick on a faithful employe 
in order to promote his own interests with the 
city authorities, or rather with the authority, 
simply said: “That’s easy.” 

Mike, who was not noted for a tender heart 
or nice scruples, said, “How long are you go- 
ing to keep him in that vault?” 

“O, probably not more than two and a half 
or three hours,” said Clifford lightly. 

“If you keep him there that long,” replied 
Bullen, “we’ll have to start a bon fire to thaw 
him out. There’s over a thousand pounds of 
ice in that vault.” 

“That’s what we want. It will cool his en- 
thusiasm and teach him not to use so much 
hot air.” 

And with guffaws over this witticism of 
the boss the group broke up. 


104 


CHAPTER TEN. 

Clifford’s Finish. 

W HEN Franklin Major called the spe- 
cial meeting of the church to order 
that night it was evident that a des- 
perate struggle was imminent. If any one had 
supposed that Hiram Jennings, having been 
“caught in the act,” would plead guilty and 
get off as lightly as possible, they had only to 
take one look at the grim, gray, set face and 
blazing, indignant, defiant eyes of the minister 
as he waited, like a stag at bay, the onset of 
the human blood-hounds. 

For the minister the issue of this trial was 
likely to be far more tragic than a trial for 
murder could ever be. An adverse verdict 
would blast his reputation, stain his fair name, 
cast him from the heights which he had been 
years in attaining, and ruin irrevocably his 
standing and prospects in his sacred calling. 
For in the ministry the blight of the scarlet 
letter is worse than the brand of Cain. Burn- 
ing at the stake for his beliefs would be glo- 
rious and triumphant and a thousand times bet- 
ter than to be covered with filth and be com- 
pelled to live an object of loathing to all men. 

In all the categories of human woe there 

105 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

is no pang more bitter than to have friendship 
turn to hate through a mistake which cannot 
be explained. The iron went deep into Hiram 
Jennings’ soul as he saw the members of his 
congregation look coldly upon him or turn 
away with averted glance. For seven years 
they had loved, honored and revered him. He 
had been a welcome guest in their homes times 
without number. He had baptized their chil- 
dren, married the young people, buried the dead, 
prayed with the sick, and comforted the troub- 
led. The beautiful watch ticking in his pocket 
had been their gift on the fifth anniversary of 
his pastorate. His typewriter and mahogany 
study desk and chairs were also gifts from his 
people, in addition to numberless smaller to- 
kens of their affection. Their love for him he 
had returned with all the warmth and fulness 
of a noble and generous nature. He would 
have died for his people before he would play 
them false. And now, as he saw them gather- 
ing, many of them being the purest and sweet- 
est women and the most generous and high 
minded men that he had ever known, all turn- 
ing from him with loathing for a crime of which 
he was innocent, his heart was ready to break. 
O, if he could only throw open the door of 
his heart and show them that the demon Lust 
had never broken in! O, if he could only 
throw his arms around the whole congregation 
106 




















SHE SAT AT HER MOTHER^ SIDE WITH DOWNCAST EYES AND A 
HANDKERCHIEF CLENCHED IN ONE HAND IN HER LAP. 

— See page 107. 



A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

}\m i 

and weep his heart out upon their bosom as 
he had done with his mother in his childhood 
troubles ! Surely they would comfort him 
even as she had done in those far gone days. 

But Marjorie! Surely she would believe in 
him. His lips had never avowed his love but 
his eyes had, and she was too true a daughter 
of Eve either to miss or to misunderstand the 
message flashed from eye to eye according to 
the universal code of love. If she believed him 
false then all else mattered little. But if she 
still believed in him he would defy his enemies 
to their teeth, and by the very power of out- 
raged innocence compel them to acquit him of 
the foul charge. 

Not much could be inferred from Marjorie's 
appearance. She was clothed in deepest black 
and was very pale. Her eyes were red. She 
sat at her mother’s side with downcast eyes 
and a handkerchief clenched in one hand in 
her lap. 

It was the first time in the history of the 
Princeville Congregational Church that a meet- 
ing had been opened without prayer. Under 
the circumstances they could not call upon the 
pastor to pray and nobody else was in the pray- 
ing spirit. An imprecatory psalm would have 
been more in keeping with their mood. 

Clearing his throat, while a death-like still- 
ness fell upon the congregation, Franklin Ma- 
107 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


jor said that the buisness upon which they 
were assembled was so embarrassing and so 
distressing to them all that they had engaged 
Mr. Clifford James to represent them. Would 
Mr. James kindly present the matter to the 
meeting? 

Every eye was on the handsome young 
lawyer as he arose. Straight, clean-cut, cool, 
and with an air that was at once judicial and 
kindly, he began by saying, in low, smooth 
voice, that nobody could regret more than he 
the deplorable occurrence which was the cause 
of the meeting. However, he would remind 
them that, while to err is but human, to for- 
give is divine, and he would urge them to pass 
upon the business of the evening in a spirit of 
Christian charity. This veiled way of pro- 
nouncing him guilty under a plea for charity 
exasperated Hiram Jennings beyond measure. 
Clifford announced: 

“This is a matter on which it is exceedingly 
painful for ladies to give testimony in public, 
and I entertain the hope that we may be able 
to adjust the trouble without subjecting our 
lady witnesses to that necessity. I would, there- 
fore, ask Dr. Jennings, who, I understand, has 
been informed as to the object of this meeting, 
if he will simplify the situation by acknowledg- 
ing the alleged fact that he was guilty of in- 
108 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


discretion with a female in his study on yes- 
terday morning ?” 

With white face and blazing eye the min- 
ister leaped to his feet and cried: 

“Never!” 

This was, of course, what Clifford expected. 
He was aiming, to use his phrase, to have the 
minister “get in bad” with the congregation at 
the start. With a deprecatory wave of his 
hand indicating regret and at the same time 
signifying that he himself still had the floor, 
Clifford continued as Hiram Jennings sank 
back into his seat. 

“Since the defendant shows no inclination 
to spare the witnesses it will be necessary to 
proceed to bring out the unpleasant facts by 
the usual method of testimony. I would like 
to call upon Mrs. Franklin Major to take the 
stand.” 

With mouth pursed uncompromisingly and 
head held high, the worthy matron arose. The 
following questions and answers were listened 
to with breathless interest. 

“Will you state to the congregation where 
you were yesterday morning at or about ten 
o’clock?” 

“I was in Dr. Jennings’ study.” 

“Whom did you see there?” 

“I saw Dr. Jennings and a woman.” 

“Where was Dr. Jennings sitting?” 

109 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“At his desk.” 

“Where was the woman sitting?” 

“In Dr. Jennings' lap.” 

This caused a sensation in the audience. 
The minister sat motionless as though listen- 
ing to his death sentence. The examination 
continued. 

“Did you notice any marks of affection be- 
tween them?” James was now asking leading 
questions of his own witnesses, but there was 
no opposing attorney to object and no judge 
to rule such questions out of order. 

Mrs. Major answered, “She had her arms 
around his neck.” 

“Did you notice any disarrangement of 
clothing?” 

“I did.” 

“Will you state the nature of it?” 

“Her veil was twined around his neck and 
remained there after she had gone.” 

“Of course they broke apart as quickly as 
possible after you entered?” 

“They did.” 

“He doubtless was generous enough to as- 
sume the blame for the incident to shield the 
lady?” 

“He was not. On the contrary he laid all 
the blame on her.” 

“Was the lady such a person as you would 
receive into your home?” 


no 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Most decidedly NOT.” 

“That will do. Will Miss Haynes please 
take the stand?” 

Kate arose. She, too, was deathly pale. Clif- 
ford's keen eye could see that she was horrified 
at what she had done but had no choice now 
except to play the game through. She was, 
however, so near a collapse that Clifford saw 
he would have to be easy on her. 

“Were you with Mrs. Major yesterday 
when she called at the study of the Rev. Dr. 
Jennings?” 

“I was.” The answer was faint. 

“Do you corroborate the testimony which 
she has just given?” 

“I do.” 

“At all points?” 

“At all points.” 

“That will do.” 

Kate sank back into her chair and seemed 
almost ready to swoon. 

“Will Miss Major please take the stand?” 

Straight, motionless and- pale, with eyes 
looking straight ahead but seeing nothing, 
Marjorie looked like a marble statue draped in 
mourning. The questions and answers con- 
tinued. 

“Were you also with your mother, Mrs. 
Major, when she called at the pastor's study 
yesterday morning?” 


hi 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

“I was.” 

“Do you corroborate your mother’s testi- 
mony?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“At all points?” 

“I — I, O Dear! I don’t know what to 
think.” And Marjorie put her handkerchief 
to her eyes and sobbed aloud. The example 
was contagious. Women were weeping all 
over the house and some of the men blew their 
noses harder than usual. 

With firmness that amounted to sternness 
Clifford said: 

“ We did not ask you what you think about 
it. This is not a question of opinion but of 
fact. What we want to know is, Did you see 
the scene described by your mother?” 

“Y-yes,” was the faint answer. 

“That will do,” said Clifford, glad to have 
done with so uncertain a witness. 

“Mr. Clark.” 

Clifford had no particular use for Clark as 
a witness, but he called him to give the impres- 
sion that he was making a fair and judicial ef- 
fort to ascertain all the facts. He also wished 
to have Clark’s testimony presented in such 
form as to do the minister as little good as 
possible. 

The young secretary arose. 

“You are Dr. Jennings’ secretary?” 


1 12 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“I am.” 

“Were you with him in his study yester- 
day morning?” 

“I was.” 

“Who was this caller who has been men- 
tioned in the evidence?” 

“A young woman who gave her name as 
Miss Arlington.” 

A shudder went over the audience at this 
the first mention of the well known courtesan 
by name. 

“Was that the first time that she had 
called?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Clark promptly. 

“How do you know?” asked Clifford in a 
quick, challenging tone. 

“Well, I never saw her before.” 

“How long have you been in Princeville?” 

“One week.” 

Everybody knew that Clark had just en- 
tered Dr. Jennings’ service. 

“Then instead of saying that this is the 
first time she had called on Dr. Jennings you 
can only say that she had not called on him 
before this week during your office hours.” 

“Yes, but I don’t believe — ” 

“Never mind what you believe or don’t be- 
lieve,” broke in Clifford savagely. “Confine 
yourself to facts. And be more careful in an- 
swering questions hereafter than you were with 

H3 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

the last one. Of course Dr. Jennings and this 
Miss Arlington did not give any signs of recog- 
nition as long as you were present ?” 

This unprofessional way of leading a wit- 
ness and of anticipating his answer also went 
unchallenged. 

“They certainly did not ,” said Clark. 

“Of course not/’ said Clifford significantly. 
“How did they get rid of you?” 

“Miss Arlington asked me to go to her 
house for a letter.” 

“Miss Arlington !” Clifford’s tone was 
sharp. “You were working for Dr. Jennings, 
I believe. Did Miss Arlington or Dr. Jennings 
send you on an errand?” 

“Well, Dr. Jennings told me to go, but it 
was at Miss Arlington’s request.” 

“Did you find the letter?” 

“I did not.” 

“Why not?” 

“The maid said there was no letter there.” 

“Obviously, then, they sent you off on a 
false scent just to be rid of you.” 

“It was her doing, sir, I’d stake my life — ” 

“Stop!” thundered Clifford. “Your opinion 
is not wanted. You may sit down.” 

Silas Henstraw was growing more and 
more restless. He kept pulling out his watch, 
moving about nervously in his seat, watching 
the door as if expecting some one, and giving 
1 14 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


every evidence of impatience. But nobody 
noticed it. 

“I would like to ask Dr. Jennings a question 
if he has no objection,” said Clifford. 

This startling request caused a stir. From 
the looks of Dr. Jennings’ face, asking him a 
question would be likely to result like applying 
a match to a magazine. White with rage, the 
minister rose without a word and looked at the 
man who was trying to destroy him with a 
glance that would have cowed any but the cool 
and resourceful lawyer. Jennings’ silence was 
due to the effort he was making to preserve 
his self-control. James was quick to construe 
it to the audience as guilty reluctance to testify. 

“Of course,” said he, in the tone of one who 
was willing to make any reasonable concession 
in the interest of fairness, “no man is ever 
obliged to incriminate himself, and Dr. Jen- 
nings is at perfect liberty to decline to answer 
any and all questions.” 

“Ask on,” said Jennings with explosive 
force. “There is nothing that I will decline to 
answer.” 

“This incident of the veil,” said Clifford, “to 
which the witnesses have given testimony. 
You admit, do you, that the veil was about 
your neck?” 

“I do,” said Jennings, blushing furiously. 

115 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

“May I ask who put it there, you or the 
young woman?” 

“The young woman,” said Jennings with 
straightforward honesty. 

“And was it placed there with or without 
your consent?” 

“Without my consent.” There was no un- 
certain sound in the minister’s answer. 

“What evidence have you to prove it?” 
There was insinuation in the lawyer’s tone. 

“My word, sir.” There was grandeur in the 
minister’s bearing, a consciousness of honesty 
and an unimpaired self-respect which thrilled 
and impressed the congregation. 

“A mere plea of not guilty is not regarded 
as evidence in court,” replied Clifford with cool- 
ness that amounted to a sneer. 

Then the storm broke. The pent up indig- 
nation at the fiendish snare which his enemies 
were drawing more and more tightly around 
him, the sense of outraged innocence, together 
with the horrible fear of the living hell into 
which the all too probable adverse verdict 
would plunge him, filled him with fury. He was 
like a man fighting single handed against a pack 
of wolves. He first addressed himself to Clif- 
ford. 

“Of course you don’t credit my word, — at 
least you won’t admit here that you do, — al- 
though you know in your heart that my word 
116 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


has always been good and is now. Now you 
are trying to ruin me. Because I dared to fight 
one of your nominees, whom the brewers lead 
about with a ring in his nose, you have de- 
clared war on me.” (At this Grafton, who oc- 
cupied a rear seat with his wife, looked as 
though he was about to have a stroke of apo- 
plexy.) “But it is not open and honorable war 
that you wage. With black-hearted treachery 
you make a show of friendliness and a pretense 
of fairness while you fight like an Indian from 
ambush or an adder in the grass. It was you 
with your organization behind you who tried 
to drive me out by bankrupting the treasury of 
the church. Failing in this you tried the fiend- 
ish trick of taking a dissolute woman whom you 
have protected in her shameful trade, and 
throwing her at me in the presence of witness- 
es. Do you ask, can I prove it? I don’t have to 
prove it. There are some things which all sane 
men know without proof. I’m not so much sur- 
prised at you, for in the rotten game of politics 
to which you have given yourself, no trick is too 
devilish, no methods too vile, no chance too des- 
perate for your cool and unscrupulous cunning. 

“But I am surprised and cut to the heart 
that you, my people, who have known me all 
these years, before whom my life has been an 
open book, could have so little faith in me as to 
seem to be deceived, even for a moment, bv such 
ii 7 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

a transparent trick. But the motive and the 
method are obvious. In my temperance cam- 
paign I have incurred the hostility of the party 
organization. Failing in one effort to drive me 
out,, they send one of their soiled doves to undo 
me with her polluting touch. Had I been a lit- 
tle more worldly wise and known then what 
everybody now seems to know, I would have 
recognized the caller as an adventuress and 
would have protected myself by keeping my 
stenographer present. But I did not know the 
woman. I had a vague recollection of having 
seen her upon the streets, she told a most plaus- 
ible story, and then threw herself upon me 
without warning when she heard voices at the 
door. This is the whole story, the straight 
truth, on my record as a Christian minister and 
a man. And yet this politician, who uses his 
power to protect saloons and houses of ill-fame 
would have you believe that I would barter my 
manhood, assassinate my conscience, dishonor 
my profession, disgrace my church, alienate my 
friends, blast my reputation, and break my 
mother’s heart — all for the embrace of a harlot! 
Why talk of proof where in the nature of the 
case there can be no proof and where none 
should be needed? Is it in vain that you have 
read my heart all these years? Is there no 
longer such a thing as faith in man? Is all con- 
fidence in each other destroyed? I despise their 
118 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


plot. I scorn their evidence. I disdain to re- 
turn any other answer to their foul charge than 
my word. And may Almighty God smite me to 
the earth and sink my soul forever in the bot- 
tomless pit if there be any stain of sin with wo- 
man upon my heart!” 

Grandeur and majesty and the boldness of 
clear-eyed honesty glorified the minister’s 
countenance and bearing, and his appeal to 
God thrilled his hearers and held them breath- 
less. A vote taken at this moment would have 
been unanimous in the pastor’s favor. Clifford 
saw the danger and set himself, like a skillful 
pilot, to steer the craft clear of the rocks. All 
eyes were upon him as he rose and began in 
low, confident and reassuring tones. 

“If this, Mr. Chairman, were a question of 
sentiment or opinion I assure you that it would 
be vain for me to try to hold my own for a mo- 
ment against Dr. Jennings’ vehement and im- 
passioned eloquence. Or were it a question in 
which our sympathies might legitimately be 
consulted I assure you that I would gladly 
drop this case right here. For, in spite of the 
unkind and unjust things which Dr. Jennings 
has said and insinuated regarding me, I wish 
to say, Mr. Chairman, that I entertain for him 
only feelings of kindliness and sympathy. 

“But this entire matter is a simple question 
of fact, to be determined dispassionately in the 
1 19 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


clear white light of evidence. In all kindness 
and charity, then, but with perfect fairness and 
honesty, let us examine the evidence and see 
what is actually established. 

“It has been shown by the testimony of 
three witnesses, and not denied by the defend- 
ant himself, that he was found in his study 
with a notorious woman seated in his lap. It 
has been shown that this woman’s veil was en- 
twined and draped about his shoulders, show- 
ing that it could not have been an instantane- 
ous act against the clergyman’s will, but that 
she must have been there at least for some min- 
utes and that too with his full consent. 

“It is quite impossible to strain our credul- 
ity to the point of believing that Dr. Jennings 
was entirely ignorant of the character of his 
caller, when she is known by sight and reputa- 
tion probably to every other adult person in 
Princeville. His order, then, to his secretary 
to go in search of a letter which did not exist 
was obviously a deliberate trick to get rid of a 
troublesome third party. 

“And why should it be deemed so utterly 
incredible that a man should be overcome by 
temptation in a moment of unguarded passion? 
There have been many Arthur Dimmesdales 
in the history of the church. Even King David, 
the sweet singer of Israel, who was called be- 
cause of his high piety a man after God’s own 


120 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


heart, was tempted similarly and fell. Even 
Dr. Jennings’ most ardent admirers would 
hardly place him above the inspired Psalmist.” 

The spell of the minister’s personality was 
forgotten under the masterly argument of Clif- 
ford. As he saw the audience yielding to him, 
he grew more and more bold in his indictment. 

“The fact that Dr. Jennings is not alto- 
gether free from a touch of the old Adam is 
seen in his willingness to lay all the blame on 
the woman. Surely he himself would agree 
that the strong ought to bear the burdens of 
the weak. It is no part of chivalry for a man 
to desert his companion in the moment of dan- 
ger, much less to shoulder on to her the whole 
burden of guilt. 

“A further evidence of the panic into which 
Dr. Jennings has been thrown by discovery is 
his charge that there has been a conspiracy. 
In his desperation he evidently forgot that 
there could be no conspiracy without the co- 
operation of the honored ladies who have given 
testimony and the unmentionable party who 
was involved in the intrigue.” 

“I never — ” cried Jennings leaping to his 
feet. 

“Out of order,” said Major sharply. “Mr. 
James has the floor.” 

Inwardly gratified at the way in which this 
thrust went home and at the sensation which it 
121 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

created, but outwardly unruffled, Clifford con- 
tinued. 

“Again, it is an axiom in law that there is 
no crime without a motive. In his ungallant 
attempt to make his partner in wrong-doing a 
scapegoat to bear all the guilt he fails to as- 
scribe any reason why she should do such a 
thing. I called on His Honor, the Mayor, this 
afternoon, and expressed great indignation 
that such a disorderly house should exist and 
pointed out the reproach that it threw on the 
administration. He immediately sent the chief 
of police over to order the Arlington woman to 
leave town immediately. The chief informs 
me that she left for Chicago on the 6:32.” 

He did not add that the chief had handed 
her a fat roll of bills, with the assurance that 
she could return after the affair had blown 
over. 

“To charge her, then, with entrapping him 
is to accuse her of a crime for which she could 
have no possible motive and which in reality 
has closed her house and made her a fugitive.” 

This was Clifford's trump card and the ef- 
fect seemed to be decisive. The minister's most 
loyal friends were silenced. The great honest 
majority, which had been sorely perplexed by 
the conflicting evidence, were now convinced 


122 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

against their will. His enemies were trium- 
phant. 

Seeing that the supreme moment had ar- 
rived Clifford added: 

“In view of the fact, Mr. Chairman, that 
the case against Dr. Jennings has been estab- 
lished absolutely, that no defense worthy of a 
moment’s consideration has been offered, and 
that not even has any plea of clemency been 
made, I move that the present pastorate be 
terminated.” 

“Second the motion,” called out Haynes 
without either rising or addressing the chair. 

Major rose promptly. 

“You have heard the motion,” said he, not 
caring to repeat it. 

The cold sweat stood out on Hiram Jen- 
nings’ brow. They were then going to put it 
through! Was the foul conspiracy about to 
succeed? Already he felt himself trembling 
and toppling on the brink of the abyss of black 
disgrace and ruin. There was no mistaking 
that ominous, hostile silence that held the con- 
gregation motionless. 

Silas Henstraw alone seemed to be uncer- 
tain and undecided. His glances toward the 
door grew more frequent. He now kept his 
watch in his hand. When the motion was made 
he fingered the arm of his chair nervously, 
123 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


moistened his lips with his tongue, and sat for- 
ward on the edge of his chair. 

“All those in favor of the motion — ” went 
on Major. 

Silas leaped to his feet to address the chair 
when a familiar voice drawled from the rear of 
the room: 

“Just a minute, Mr. Chairman. Ain’t you 
forgettin’ to call for remarks?” 

The explosion of a bomb could not have 
startled the meeting more. With one impulse 
all turned and saw Sam standing just inside 
the noiseless swinging doors leading into the 
vestibule. His appearance was indeed start- 
ling. He wore his working overalls. His 
hands were black, his face was all spotted as 
though a horse had kicked mud all over him, 
his hair was disheveled, and he was panting 
for breath. Clifford started and turned deadly 
pale to find his Nemesis at his heels again. 
Quite losing his self-possession, he half rose 
and exclaimed: “How did you get here?” 

“O ! I just blew in,” said Blizzard coolly. 

“Where have you been, Sam,” asked Silas. 

“In cold storage,” said Sam with a shiver. 

“It seems to me, Mr. Chairman,” broke in 
Haynes, “that Mr. Blizzard does not show 
proper respect for this company to appear in 
such unpresentable condition.” 

“I ain’t very well groomed, Mister Haynes, 
124 



"JUST a MINUTE, MR. CHAIRMAN. AIN'T YOU FORGETTIN' 

to call for remarks?” — See page 124. 











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A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


that’s a fact,” said Sam dryly, fixing his keen 
eyes on that individual, “but I reckon that 
those parties who had me locked in Mike Bul- 
len’s beer vault didn’t intend I should be here 
at all. And it’s like enough I wouldn’t if I 
hadn’t found one of the Company’s dynamite 
ca’tridges in my pocket. When I blew the 
door open I got a jolt myself and the roar made 
me a little deef. So if you try to call me down, 
Mr. Chairman, the chances are I won’t hear 
you,” said Sam significantly. 

A great light began to break on the congre- 
gation. Was it possible that there was after 
all a devilish plot back of all the trouble? A 
sullen muttering swept over the room. With 
the exception of half a dozen unscrupulous pol- 
iticians, the congregation was made up of high- 
minded Christian men and women who wanted 
to do what was right but who had been grossly 
deceived. Even Deacon Crackington was 
weak rather than insincere, and like the others 
had been convinced of the minister’s guilt. 
When, then, it began to appear that there actu- 
ally was a conspiracy and that their beloved 
pastor was an innocent victim, the pendulum, 
which had been pulled far over by the false tes- 
timony, came back with a rush. 

“I kind o’ thought, Mr. Chairman,” 
drawled Sam, “that before this ’ere case is 
closed we ort to get the testimony of the other 
125 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


party most intimately concerned. And feeling 
sure that the honorable prosecuting attorney 
would not go to a disorderly house for any pur- 
pose,! decided to get the evidence myself.” The 
sarcasm of that shaft went home, but was im- 
mediately forgotten in astonishment over 
Sam’s recital. 

“First, I asked Mr. Henstraw, who as you 
know is president of the Mutual Phone Com- 
pany, to go to the central office and sit at the 
end of Miss Arlington’s wire and listen with 
all his ears. Then I went to the Savings bank 
and drew out one hundred dollars. At two 
o’clock I called on Miss Arlington. Flashing 
the roll on her I said: 'Goldie, Boss Cliff is 
tickled to death over the neat way you pulled 
off that job on the preacher, and he told me to 
hand you this little century roll. He says that 
any girl who can put up a game like that and 
get away with it is a peach.’ 

“She took the roll and says: 'Well, this is 
sure easy money, but Cliff always takes care of 
his friends.’ ” 

“You’ll have to tell Cliff that I’ve made 
the delivery,” said I, stepping to the phone, “or 
he may think that I’ve held out something for 
the rake off. What’s his number? She knew 
all right, for she said right off, 'Main three dou- 
ble one.’ I gave a ring and found Mr. Hen- 
straw on the job. 'Main three double one,’ said 
126 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


I. After a minute I said, ‘Hello! Is that you 
Mr. James? Here's a lady friend wants to 
speak to you.' " 

The most nerve-straining breathlessness 
held the audience, while Clifford's white, set 
face showed that he knew he was listening to 
his doom, but was game to the last. 

“I handed Goldie the receiver and now I 
would like to have Mr. Henstraw tell you what 
he heard her say." 

Old Si, trembling with wrath, arose and 
said: 

“The words I heard were these: ‘Hello! 
Cliff, thanks awfully for the century. It was 
easy. I'll thank you some more next time you 
come down.' " 

A sullen, menacing buzz, that increased al- 
most to a roar, rose from the crowd. In an in- 
stant Sam's voice was heard and all listened. 

“I don't know as its strictly constitootional 
nor exactly accordin’ to Hoyle, but just the 
same I move you, Mr. Chairman, that we 
throw Mr. Clifford James into the street. All 
in favor of the motion manifest it by following 
me." 

Like maddened bulls the men in the audi- 
ence leaped to their feet and pressed after 
Sam's gaunt and sinewy figure as he started 
for Clifford, who now backed up against the 
wall by the speaker's chair. Quick as thought 
127 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


a lithe, athletic figure dashed in between them, 
and, with uplifted hand, the minister cried out: 

“Stop ! Would you do violence in the house 
of God?” 

Scowling black looks of vengeance, the mob 
paused while Major rapped for “Order,” and 
Sam muttered that “it ’ud be a good Christian 
act to give him a coat of tar and feathers.” 

Like a hunted rat Clifford seized upon the 
moment’s delay to slip quickly out of a side 
door near the speaker’s platform. 

“He’s gone,” “After him,” “Don’t let him 
get away,” and similar cries broke from a hun- 
dred throats. Four or five men dashed through 
the side door while, with one accord, the con- 
gregation broke for the main entrance know- 
ing that they could head him off in the street 
below. Led by Sam the men rushed headlong, 
the women, no less furious, following close be- 
hind. The mob spirit was in the air. Blood 
was boiling. The deepest wrath of the heart, 
which for a time had been perplexed and 
doubtful, was now fully resolved and was rush- 
ing straight to its mark. In an instant all had 
gone, — all but two. 

The sudden and dramatic deliverance from 
a fate far worse than death quite unmanned 
Hiram Jennings. He sank into a chair with 
head in his hands and sobbed like a child. He 
thought he was alone. 

128 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


“Can you ever forgive us?” 

It was a voice that he had always loved, but 
now there was a tenderness in it that thrilled 
him to the heart. Dashing away the tears he 
sprang to his feet and gazed into Majorie’s 
eyes, which fell. 

“Forgive, Marjorie! You’ve done nothing 
for me to forgive. I shall always be grateful 
for your reluctance to testify about what you 
had been tricked into witnessing.” 

How sweet her name sounded as she now 
heard it for the first time in his voice! 

“O ! I knew all the time that you were in- 
nocent,” said Marjorie gazing full at him with 
eyes aglow with trust and admiration and 
something else. 

“How did you know?” he asked with a look 
which could not be mistaken. Again her eyes 
fell. 

“Oh! I had confidence in you,” she said 
simply. 

“Can’t you give me a better reason than 
that? Can’t you say that it was love’s intui- 
tion?” 

He was holding out his arms to her. 

“Yes,” she cried. And he took her to his 
heart. 

There had been an uproar in the street be- 
low, but they had no ears for it. It was sub- 
siding now, but it made no difference to them. 

129 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 


Suddenly the noiseless doors swung inward 
and Sam stepped in. 

“Caught again !" exclaimed he in great de- 
light as they broke apart in confusion, “but this 
time it's the real thing." 

Sam was rolling down his sleeves. 

“You must excuse my interruptin' this 'ere 
devotional meetin' but I thought you'd be in- 
terest J to hear about the hard-boiled finish 
of Mr. Clifford James." 

“What have you done to him?" asked the 
minister in alarm. 

“Wa’al, you see when we got outside the 
house of God I just simply couldn't hold 'em 
back," drawled Sam. “I guess every able bod- 
ied man got in at least one punch or a good 
swift kick until he looked like a bloody scare 
crow. Then somebody threw a rope around 
his neck and I guess he thought he was goin’ 
to swing sure. But he didn't weaken even then. 
He's got as much nerve as the devil himself. 
Then I pointed to the railroad tracks and told 
him to beat it and never show up again in 
Princeville. He didn't say a word, but as soon 
as we took off the rope he disappeared hot- 
foot in the direction of Air Line Junction." 

“But what will become of him?" asked Jen- 
nings, forgetting all his injuries at the thought 
of his enemy, ragged and battered, wandering 
homelessly in the night. 


130 


A CAMPAIGN COURTSHIP 

“O ! Don't worry about him. He always 
lands on his feet like a cat. Grafton and Haynes 
formed themselves into a relief committee and 
followed him. He will catch the midnight ex- 
press for Chicago at the Junction and by morn- 
ing will be with his Goldie." 

“Sam,” said Jennings with great feeling, 
“you have saved me from a fate so horrible and 
delivered me to a destiny so heavenly,” b£re he 
took Marjorie's hand, “that I couldn't^tepay 
you if I could bestow a mountain of gold and 
a lifetime of service. What can I do to show 
my gratitude?” 

“Wa'al, there's just one thing that I can 
think of that would please me more'n anything 
else.” 

“What is it?” they both asked in a breath. 

“To get a invite to your weddin' sometime 
in the sweet purty quick.” 

The minister looked at the maid and her 
eyes made answer. No man ever looked hap- 
pier as he said: 

“I guess we can accommodate you, Sam.” 































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